• Piggy Bank

    Piggy Bank

    by Bailey Gausling Artist: Mickalene Thomas lately, i haven’t felt like myselfbut rather an old piggy bankthat someone keeps droppingcareless change into, refillingit’s hope and purposepeople only come to me when theyabsolutely need me, the cash in theirhand or card in their wallet are far moresufficient to them than I ever will bebut with every…

  • Cold Room

    Cold Room

    by Jide Badmus It’s a rainy morning.The earth breathescold on its citizens.I reach for a blanket offlesh that is unavailable. The room is filledwith pieces of you—strands of hair,vestige of scent,mirage of smile &a ghost of your voice.There is a depressionon your side of the bed—but these walls struggleto reconstruct memories.The mirror claims not torecall…

  • Rainfall Baptism

    Rainfall Baptism

    Sarah M. Prindle received an Associate’s Degree in English from Northampton Community College. She loves reading everything from historical fiction and memoirs, to poetry and mysteries. She hopes to someday publish her own novels and poetry collections on these different topics.

  • The Ruins

    The Ruins

    by Jen Mierisch I. In the nineteen-eighties, my parents’ house collapsed. Stubbornness split its beams, conflict cracked the foundation, friction wore away its floors. Walls rotted from the constant floods of bitterness and disenchantment. A lack of upkeep may have been to blame, or maybe its materials were mismatched, failed to fit, could hold no…

  • Three Haikus

    Three Haikus

    Patrick Karl Curley is a poet and performance artist from Sligo, Ireland. He is curator of Vagabond Voices poetry/performance event for Cairde Arts Festival, and hosts Illumnations open mic poetry at Bookmart, Sligo. He has previously published work in Black Heart Magazine, Crack The Spine, Hidden Channel, The Cormorant, and From The Depths.

  • One Precious Stone

    One Precious Stone

    by Seth Jani No more do the animals routin darkness. They go before usblind and ecstatic, carrying theirprimal secrets.We lose everything with their power.The shine of otherness is our only heart.We cast the fishing line and pull upold tires. It’s not funny like in the movies.This world is unbearably sad.My niece will never knowthe true…

  • Grief Fruits by M.L. Rengots

    Grief Fruits by M.L. Rengots

    For Cody, for me RECIPE FOR DEAD BROWNIES Buy a box of brownie mix. Set aside the ingredients. Fill the empty box with dirt. Bury the box. Combine ingredients above your brownie box grave. SONG TO LET GO Catch some wind in your hands. Sing a sad song to the wind. Release the wind when…

  • Haiku on Grief

    Haiku on Grief

    Grace Gilbert’s recent poetics & lyric essays can be found in the Adroit Journal, Ninth Letter, the Minnesota review, plain china, Anomaly Literary Journal, Pretty Owl Poetry, Maudlin House, Twyckenham Notes, Vox Viola, storm of blue press, Sweet Literary Magazine, tilde, & the Gandy Dancer among others. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and was…

  • Shadow as Time Swallower

    Shadow as Time Swallower

    by Sarah Marquez I wonder when it will be my turnto introduce my shadow to the family,my mama in her ideal world–of good men versus bad men,us versus them. Or when the teal dresshung in the closetwill see light. * In the mornings, I prepare timelike a meal.Press preserved breathesbetween my hands.I don’t have many,so,…

  • From Being Stalingrad to Nothingness

    From Being Stalingrad to Nothingness

    by Brett Stout After she annexed her existenceandthe Crimea, confessions as oxymoron’swere writtenin dead languages onblank Post-It Notesleft in empty carriagesas thebroken dams filled withneon ghetto trashcansand urban rodent predators weresprayingdesigner cologne onme and inthe pages ofmonthly corporate familymagazines, celebrate the revolutionwith blood soaked handsand pinwheelsof death and mass genocide, yellow ochreprimary redblackandlime greenpaint strokes…