Category: 2017

  • Pushcart Nominations

    Read the nominated pieces below: POETRY Diannely Antigua, “Portrait of El Jefe” Victoria Lynne McCoy, “Dumb Luck” Paul Tran, “Elegy for My Mother’s Lipstick” FICTION Wynne Hungerford, “Appetites” Kate Arden McMullen, “Paterson Field” NONFICTION Melanie Unruh, “Triage”

  • Lauren Haldeman

    SELECTIONS FROM INSTEAD OF DYING Instead of dying,  we  take  you  in — sick,  alone,  confused  — and start a series of healing  regimens.   For  the   first  week  you drink only  water   infused   with  lavender  and  vinegar.  After  the  new moon,   we   begin   to   feed  you   […]

  • Sally Burnette

    VIEW. MAGIC MOUNTAIN, VALENCIA, CALIFORNIA          Joe Deal, 1977 what you can’t readily see: a man in a white shirt on the right underneath the roller coaster’s main drop facing away from the camera fucking someone wearing a barbie head ball gag WE’RE REALLY HAPPY. OUR KIDS ARE HEALTHY, WE EAT GOOD […]

  • Kathryn Smith

    CRACKING THE EGG I scramble the egg until it does not resemble egg—no longer the globe a body bore into the world for a purpose entirely other. First I scraped the blood-knot from the albumen—trace of its potential, of what reminds me of me, life force hidden in the viscous clot. When the speckled hen […]

  • Luis Lopez-Maldonado

    BODIES LIKE PAN DULCE black & beige chairs hugged our black & brown skins, smiles galore          smiles galore                  smiles galore limp cocks full grown & you were mine & I was yours & heat rose like dough   Luis Lopez-Maldonado is a Xicanx […]

  • Jackson Burgess

    LAST FULL MOON IN IOWA Sirens in the east, moving towards some tragedy, and who would commit a murder under a moon like this? Who would break anything, a window, a skull, knowing she was watching from above? I have bronchitis again—too many smokes and nights not knowing what color socks you’re wearing, whether you […]

  • Diannely Antigua

    PORTRAIT OF EL JEFE after Robin Coste Lewis You were supposed to be only a photograph on a wall. You were supposed to stay in the frame until someone called your name, El Jefe, until someone wrote the date en La Era de Trujillo, summoned you from a textbook or grave, chiseled out the bullets […]

  • Fatima-Ayan Malika Hirsi

    DISCUSSION ON DROUGHT 1. My breasts                             fresh                                                  with stretchmarks boast unwarranted pride. They have no reason   […]

  • Daniel Biegelson

    THE ART OF LYING NEXT TO EACH OTHER It turns out Americans are making less love, which make sense since even in the imaginary privacy of our own bedrooms we hate what we’ve become. There is a kind of truth that’s true whether or not you believe in it and a kind of truth that’s […]

  • Jennifer Popa

    THE CURRENT I. When, in a flush of sweat, the neighbor boy began the task of dying, the whole neighborhood turned up—a congregation of down-turned, worried faces. I only recognized him by the port wine birthmark stretching from his brow to his collarbone. On his warm body it was now dull, muted. He was the […]