fall 2015
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageCan't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning
Angela Rebrec
Saturday Night
Charles Springer
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
Yellow Flowers
The World Dream
Ann Filemyr
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola
Good to See You
Eleanor Kedney
what do you talk about
desire derives pleasure
aren't we missing every thing
gary lundy
The Insidious Susurration
A Conversation
Marie-Andree Auclair
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
Word on the Street
Henry Rappaport
Why, And for What Purpose
Is There Something
Ace Bogess
Girl I
Girl II
Carolyn Supinka
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
the neighbors knew i divined water
Hell is hot
Allison DeLauer
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
Alcohol
Fast-slow Continuum
Peycho Kanev
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
QED
I called out for help.
What I got was an overseer.
Petals
of the neighbours’
cherry, last
presses of fingers—.
Presses
at temples, backs
of knees, toes
and root
balls, stones, burning
grasses blaze the blood’s horizon.
Nis þæt hearu stow
it is not a nice place,
that’s litotes, sir, you
dumb fuck.
—Petals of an
unwithering fire,
wind innocent of all
harms it is and does,
have no mind to come
to come to rest in
thorns—each the face of a demon
seen edge-on.
To rest here.
Is not to call it good.
Demonstrandum.