Poetry: “Rhapsody on Independence Day” by Evan Beaty

The psalmists have all gone underground with armfuls of tortoiseshell inkwells and yellowed paper and their bodies and horses’ bodies wrapped in a rind of sour-tasting fog. All their wives are blonde but not the type that cries at airports or major abandonments of the more permanent sort. They are in their houses making buttermilk […]

Poetry: “At Twenty” by Carla Baricz

Pauvre Martory! All those months in Tunisia drifting on the chipped cusp of nonexistence, yellow like yesteryear, sweating gunpowder, choking up on surreal loves and manic lusts inking the petrified yolk into sky. Jaundiced and blue, a jazz trombone out of tune still waiting for life to throb through its paces according to the season’s […]

Poetry: “Memoir” by Carla Panciera

The calf wandered down his driveway and Louie, thinking: deer, got his gun. But when the little Jersey emerged from the buzzing haze of spring, Louie lay the gun across his lap, called: Here, Calfie, Calfie, and the calf, Liza-lashed, a starlet on mother-of-pearl hooves, came. Louie had no rope, but you can’t sit forever, […]

Poetry: “man by the deli” by Daniel Aristi

he looks like he could use a government blanket una manta del gobierno, por favor and hot cocoa and an FBI agent tiki-like by his side reconfortándolo, and some wreckage, but he’s only got why, the wreckage; like a baby weeping dentro del vientre in the womb quiet and still en puro silencio he is […]

Poetry: “Tea” by Ken Haas

We went to London once a year and, aside from conjugate acts in wayward places, there was one thing she loved doing in that conurbation only, made personal by her novel use of accoutrements (strainer, drip tray, sugar tongs, cozy) and especially how the milk was introduced— smallest possible liquid dollop that pricked the fuscous […]

Poetry: “First Word” by Gavin Corey

My parents tell me I was some months old when My first word ticked out: “Clock.” Since then, Two faces Glare back at me In the mirror.

Poetry: “Pigeons” by Gavin Corey

Under sleepy awnings and overpasses, Pigeons huddle in groups of grays and blacks. Some bob over gum-stained slabs Shot white with shit. All good cities Are bad cities.

Fiction: “Good Taste” by Dana Schwartz

In the bedroom of a small apartment outside Kielce in Poland, a man named Gustaw Smolak had a heart attack just as his wife left to get groceries in their olive green Camaro. The Smolak family lived on the second floor of a building that had been redecorated so many times by its tenants over […]

Fiction: “Into the Horizon” by Kacy Cunningham

Gam never cuddled or cooed. She didn’t linger or inquire or speak of love. She had suffered the loss of her husband over two decades ago and, though they hadn’t laughed often, when they did, it was deep and hearty. Gam smothered bread with butter and piled ham high between the white, buttery slices, serving […]

Poetry: “Of the Storm (Sleepless Eye)” by Adele Wegner

Adele Wegner was born in Youngstown, Ohio and lives in Chicago. She is a writer and artist and works in the field of psychology and mental health. Her poems have been published in Columbia Poetry Review and Burningword.