work

There was a great flood. In the great rush of water, the Great Tower fell, and the One Language, contained in its central citadel, floated away. Over 40 days and 40 nights, the One was dissolved into many: all the tongues of the world…

According to the book of Daniel
my name means Little Willingness…

A hyena often appears in my shadow
everytime I try caviar again. She has an odd
number of utters that bubble and bloom
like the keloids clustering my jaw. If I whisper count down…

We witnessed from the lens a great distance.
I saw the sea of trees and you said you saw the snow,
or the sun-baked canyon where the river once flowed,
and to hug you, kiss you and bring you closer…

Across furrowed field, we broke traditions
Playing cowboys and native Americans
Me, Cheyenne nation – eyes like tadpole
Flaunting wool aroc, flaring eagle bonnet, bow and arrow
You, Vacqueros – skinny like beanpole
Parading brogan, bowler hat, baronet and musket…

The blob-fish queen ate herself yesterday, but if you look at the plaid shadows the windows cast, you can still see her in the lines they form. A maniac at heart, none of us will ever drink to her memory, so instead we cast fishing nets over her castle to celebrate todays community-wide holiday. Her administration stole a third of

Many people have forgotten the world behind the couch. There are more dreams still about the cracks in the cushions, where many still shove their toes while watching movies, too intent to realize what memories they might be losing with their toenails and their change, or slips of paper with phone numbers on them, ones they must never have meant

She’s stronger now,
not hiding or exiled
at the polished table
in the quiet courtroom…

The solution, my father announced, with only the crown of his head visible above the stacks of packing boxes, was to raise a marquee.

A grand marquee, my mother added…

non-Euclidean beings, evolved from 2-D where one slides along, to where the 2 becomes a topology of karma, inescapably tight-bound around whatever evolving slightness, whatever hinted-at mystery, a projected felt space (intermingled with flesh) of feedings & feedbacks, of social & antisocial, of nano-synapses experimenting with surrender & freedom (drowning out dialectical cries), of organic immersion in regeneration & decay,

I knew from the moment I chose the Theme & Prompt that #7 was going to be on the heavy side, emotionally speaking. Some of works in this issue have Content Warnings. CWs are tricky. In general, I leave it up to the contributor to determine if a CW is warranted for their work. Three of the contributors to this

On certain days, I am disparate / fragments, washed up on the shores / of humanity; my limbs and torso, / unclassifiable as natural in origin, / my heart, hidden in sodden detritus, like a matchbox / thrown overboard, adrift and finally ejected…

carve this marble face again / it’s the ADHD masking me, / the drink blurring my face into a recognisable shape, / something I can stand looking back at me, / though the mirror grimaces at my horror contorted teeth…

All creatures under the moon gaze into the
Blue, as we watch True Crime documentaries
Catapulting us to the future. They submit to the
Darkness. All creatures are listening. It might be
Easy to join them, but we whisper on another
Frequency…

Now, floating on the shining altar of nothing, I have a confession to make. No longer will I seek fine excuses, no longer will I escape into the warmth of a benevolent gloom. Here I stand against the blinding azure cool, Below me, above me, beside me, emptiness. There is no trace of humanity, only I breathe faintly. I prepared

Content Warning: physical abuse

When you were a child only books had been kind enough to tell you any stories…

At dusk, I’m slowly walking
under a dark cast of hawks.
Rain is again approaching,
a wash of blue-black clouds
coloring everything…

From the turmoiled age of thirteen, she has rebuilt herself, piece by piece, into something far less inconvenient. When her father told her she was too sensitive, she plucked the tear ducts from her face and replaced them with a rolodex. When her mother scolded her for being stubborn, she sawed her fists off at the wrists, crafted fingers out

suddenly everything leapt into continuous motion / the debunked tripartite brain / your fearful shoulders / wing bones seizing, our bodies seed- / ing the soil of the pillowcase, in your sweatpants / pockets / my shovel hands…

The silence on my end of the phone stretches. Oh, the dreaded third date. First dates often revolve around coffee. Second dates involve dinner at a favorite restaurant, maybe a movie. But the third date? Why does it always have to be dinner at someone’s house? I simmer my panic attack and propose other options. Nope. Mike wants to cook

cobbled street —
seeping through the cracks
my childhood

The witching hour passes in a jiffy.A cauldron of repressed torment flows from a blemished soul.The spectre of my harrowing past stood with open arms,ready to devour me into its crater of debacle.Your stinking touch still ravages my sanity.Your stares defiled my vanity.I was broken beyond measure!My childhood wasn’t a treasure.It turned to a curse,Those days when existence was sombre

“What happened to the bottle opener?” I ask.

“What happened to the murder hornets?” he counters. My partner has a theory that 2020 is proof that time travel exists…

West Coast departure, my lover / awaiting partner reunion / his permanent move / Permanent. / “I’m so excited for you!” / even as veiled grief wept out…

sickly, stagnant / Thumb-sized bruises—from griping too hard—pepper my inner thighs. / it’s swimsuit season / and my awkward legs are decorated with scars…

Content Warning: mental health issues and mild, unconventional self harm

I step into the shower after days without sleep –
Thanks to the lovechild of anxiety and hypomania
That incessantly wails at all hours of the night.
As I step in, the water burns my skin…