be the first to know
Sign up for our newsletter and we’ll let you know as soon as our first call drops. Don’t worry, we will literally only email you when we have a rare event, when a call drops, and when new editions go live. And you can opt out any time.
Three Poems
by RJ Equality Ingram//| PoemsRoger Rabbit carries his belongings in a bindle like a fool / He left the door to his wife’s apartment open as he walked through to Toon Town but turned towards his favorite juice joint for a celery & tomato shrub with carrot puree chasers
Cotton Candy
by Miklós Vámos//| FictionAt first glance, “Cotton Candy,” with its uncomplicated writing style, might seem like a simple little story. But as we read
Three Poems
by Adam Deutsch//| PoemsThe sun has an extra weight,
a hammer that falls like hurricane
when we make the sky quake
at least once per year. But now
The Hideaway
by Sarp Sozdinler//| FictionWhen my parents got divorced, my dad moved into a house three blocks away and left the shed in our backyard to rot. The kind of shed with cheap plywood walls, a warped door, and…
I May Leave
by Alicia Gee//| EssaysMum says that Don’s womanizing killed him, along with the smoking and the drinking. Fucking is good cardio, I tell her. I have a soft spot for infidelity. Dad tells the story of a family Christmas Eve party he attended when he was a child. My grandfather Don…
The Pool Pit
by Guy Cramer//| FictionI’d gotten a call a few days before my birthday, this was back when I was just tall enough to punch my dad in the belly button. I was in my room chewing a whole packet of gum when the phone rang, ten times. On the eleventh time Mom yelled “Oh let…
Two Poems
by Ewen Glass//| PoemsI’m ashamed of my body but I put it on the page where it buzzes like a phone that should be silent. I sometimes wish to be on a beach and just so precisely in the moment that I feel the sand and the sea and the vibrations of a low mood in which I…
Conjuring a Life
by Casey Jo Graham Welmers//| EssaysMaybe when kids like Jessie and John grew up they wanted to be firefighters or teachers or someone that excavates dinosaurs, but you never really knew what you wanted to be because you always had this inexplicable notion you’d be dead.
Plateaued
by M.M. Kaufman//| Fiction“I had a vision of you at age seventy-two.”
“What?”
Cooper and CeCe were sitting in the backyard watching their respective daughters, Lily and Anya, play at the bottom of the sloping hill. They sat in Adirondack chairs while their Aperol spritzes…
Megalohydrothalassophobia, or Something
by Aubri Kaufman//| EssaysI can’t pinpoint the onset of my giant underwater statue phobia, but I suspect it crystallized ten years ago, around the first time I saw a photo of a massive…