This is where, in the poem,/I say that I am descended/from these motherfuckers
Three Poems by JC Reilly
A Ferret, a Stoat, and a Polecat//go into a bar. Wait, it isn’t that kind/of poem.
“I grew up in a very non-nuclear family”: An Interview with Nicole Callihan
I’ve often considered fiction as a way to get out my worst fears, to put a mortifying or scary way of being onto the page, so that I won’t actually have to live it.
Three Poems by Jeannine Hall Gailey
Is she a victim or a villainess?/ You remember only a storm of swords and flame, /a flash of the white of winter, /the blue of a dragon’s eye.
“Bad News” by Amy King
She doesn’t know what the snow does/
to her pipes. But you do.
“A lot of corny shit is true”: An Interview with Jaime Fountaine
There are as many ways to grow up as there are people, which is what makes these individual coming-of-age stories infinitely interesting and relatable.
Three pieces from “skirt disaster” by Marina Blitshteyn
i loved my young life once. it thrummed with inner mischief, some transgressions maybe but all tongue, all textures, all translated through that funnel in my head.
Excerpt from ‘The Couples’ by Nicole Callihan
Let someone bang her champagne glass with the pretty cutlery your in-laws gifted you. Or bang your own.
“recipe for a massacre: tulsa 1921” by Quraysh Ali Lansana
a lynch mob. a defense mob. a gunshot. hate. a gunshot. hate. a deputizing of hundreds.
Excerpts from ‘Extant Fragments’ by steve dalachinsky
there is a confluence influenced apparently by a fluidity of music.
