“It doesn't get easier, I thought it would along the way.”
FICTION | NONFICTION | POETRY |
TRANSLATION
SUBMIT STORE DONATE OPPORTUNITIES INTERVIEWS WRITERS WE PUBLISH
“It doesn't get easier, I thought it would along the way.”
“With O.J. there was an abyss of recklessness I was willing to dive into, a waxing appetite for danger I was unsure I could swallow.”
“The door didn’t open every day, but every time it did, I pushed it as far as it would go.”
“The moth doesn’t hear him, flies right back to the dads’ flamethrowers and you can’t stop it, can’t stop anything. To the moth all fire is sun.”
Currently accepting submissions in prose, poetry, works in translation and art
“She is either the trickster god of the desert or a divine messenger. Neither option is welcome, especially now.”
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“In the spring of 2020, when the lockdown began, Liz still owned the ax that broke down her childhood front door…”
“under house lights you move / through hallways backstage like it’s a sin / to inhabit your own skin”
“I am a God fearing man / depending on who asks / But between you and me / God does not exist”
“Even if it’s just a small piece of me, it’s good practice for the trillions of years yet to pass in which I will not exist.”
“lingering mysteries I knew / I would never know: a boy who / drank rivers…”
“The balloon continued to expand until it was big enough for me to crawl inside and curl up like an embryo in a green rubber womb.”
“The wildlife / rescue continues to tell me who / survives, who passes.”
“She watched him trot to the bathroom naked and thought of how strange his body looked. His four hairy legs were twice the size of her arms.”
“Born with so much blackness, I spent my life adjusting / puffy eyes to a new light, missing her darkness”
Help read submissions in any of our print categories: fiction, nonfiction, and poetry
“She wonders what curse this is, to swing from life to life, grief to grief, with no control.”
