“the dark germ that all conclusivities draw from and preclude, brazen chapping-hand that wags and wanes with the splendid rot of oaks…” New work by Liby Hays.
“Tch-aron, Kh-aron, Sh-aron, spelled with a Ch- (like the largest of the five known moons of the dwarf planet Pluto, like the underworld ferryman of ancient Greek myth): I never knew how exactly to pronounce the name of the self-professed self-help guru I worked for, the year after I graduated from college.” New fiction by Alyssa Proujansky.
“Larry fell off the turnip truck wound up in a drain ditch with a plastic grocery sack tied over his head in a top knot.” New fiction by Alex Gregor.
“At night, the man with no face lifts his no face face. It is as if it is a raised up hand. As if to ask for help. There is no help in these woods.” New fiction by Peter Markus.
“We had a concrete deck. That spring I liked to sit out on it, drink about two beers, put on Bruce Hornsby and the Range, and try to look forward to getting older.” New fiction by Jack Christian.
Troy James Weaver
“A crashing of glass, the candles and lamps out of flame, a voice like a whisper coming at me from all angles, then a light at first dim then coming on brighter and brighter in the mirror.” New fiction by Troy James Weaver.
“Shit that was once flowers became shit again.” New fiction by Evelyn Hampton.
“Dad stands staring at the stolen sundresses in my closet.” New fiction by Meg Pokrass.
From Dolan Morgan’s surreal graphic novel How to Have Sex on Other Planets, Neptune “is going to show you what’s behind those closed doors.”
“Guy fieri learned his first discomfort popping the coyote milk in discrete plops unlike the gentle flow that came from george w bush.” New fiction by Bobby Dixon.