Category: Print Archives

Fiction: Tom McCartan’s “Tennessee Williams Is a Hack”

I used to think I invented this one word. One day I looked it up and it turned out that Mark Twain had used it in some damn book. I keep trying to come up with these stories and everyone always says that they already are something, like a movie or a sitcom episode. “You…
Fiction: Andrea Kneeland’s “Side Effects”

Scene 73: Check-in When no one is looking, I pry nails from the wall with my bare hands and I tuck these in my pockets. When they ask if I have any sharp objects with me, I hand them the nails. I got them here I say. They were in your wall I say, which…
Poetry: Chas Hoppe & Joshua Young’s “[placeholder]”

[1] [2] [3] he was a film extra for about a month,driving his Jeep around down by the viaductuntil about six in the morning each day. you ever tried to freeze-frame a vhs? she hid his parents in the gift-shop bathroomand rented a karaoke machine for his birthday.[4] do the memories expire with…
Fiction: “Almost Like Children” by Erika T. Wurth

Cary was a small town Indian girl. Her eyes were wide, black and slanted. Her hair long and orangey brown. Years ago, her mother had come to Idaho Springs to be with her father, but she was gone. Cary’s mother was Chickasaw and nobody knew anything about her, not even Cary’s father. Sam, however, lived…
Four Fictions from Fun Camp: Gabe Durham

One Camper per Deck Chair One deck chair per camper. No running around the pool except during barefoot poolside relays. Don’t rub your eyes when you get chlorine burn. All swimmers must first pass the Deep-End Test, which is ten questions, true or false, regarding the history of the deep end. During Sharks n’ Minnows,…
Two Fictions by Luke Geddes

At the Book Reading Petals of light from the disco ball lick the author’s forehead. The venue double-booked, a velvet rope is all that separates the reading from a junior high school dance. The men and women of the audience sit in folding chairs, the men on one side, the women on the other. No…
Poetry: Colin Dodds’ “The Again of It”

The year boils down(the temperature of boiling wateris the area code of Manhattan)to the same forms. And I fail, dramatically,to become new with the year. Outside, the token trees twinkle.I sample women’s voices, car alarms.There are miles to go before I’m drunk. The shunted New York snow testifies:I dropped from the revered skyand wound up…
Fiction: Alex Myers’ “In the Dark”

The pots simmered on the stove, and NPR babbled through their steam, cadenced voices delivering the day’s news in careful clips. James felt good, better than he had for months, better than he’d felt since Dennis had gone to his ashram or whatever. He peeled carrots, swept the spirals of skin into the trash bin,…
Two Poems by Jeremy Behreandt

Only when the last bureaucrat is hung from the entrails of the last capitalistwill we realize we cannot eat digital snow—quoted text from George Eliot’s Middlemarch in danbury, connecticut the snowdrifts snarlopinions over distances. maneki nekolifts one winter paw. bon soir papillon,bruise way in. to hope is a verbwith extension in space. to hope as…