dusk: the air hot and full of dust. brutalist diplomatic buildings aged in that patina, dim as parking garages. our days were long and languid. heat pulled us like a leash, guiding our way to the water; no trees save for paltry saplings straining against the sun to put down roots. EMILY PINKERTON lives and […]
Rebecca Pyle
Artwork/photographs by REBECCA PYLE have appeared in Watershed Review, TINT, JuxtaProse, West Trestle Review, Banyan Review, Gris-Gris, Kleksograph, New England Review, and in many others. Rebecca Pyle is also a creative writer. Website: rebeccapyleartist.com
fag vows
by Andrew Ketcham
something like adultery something like a tire fire big hands the shape and scope of god blistering your body something new
The Titan Arum
by Kevin Grauke
The seed of the flower of death, as small as a foxglove aphid, plants itself in the loam of birth to wind its roots and piercing stalk through the lattice of our organs until there’s no space left to burrow. It’s only then that the bud bursts our skin, to begin to unfurl its dark […]
The Work of Windows
by Beth Williams
My father built us a house with solid front doors, thick enough to save us from wolves. He hoped every exit would hold tight to its jamb. But arms come with hinges. Harsh is the opening when you can’t see what’s coming. Puberty through a peephole never dares to knock. How […]
Baba Yaga and the Bird
by Sophie Panzer
Baba Yaga lives deep in the Hudson Valley in a house on chicken legs. She studied sculpture at the Rhode Island School of Design back in the ’50s and transformed the stilts holding the home up over her backyard pond. Her lot is surrounded by an ancient fence studded with bleached skulls—deer and squirrel bones […]
Warrior
by Lane Falcon
the not letting me touch him when mummified again
by medicine and its machines. Even when I wrap
him in his favorite blanket, lift his saddled head and lay
it on his home pillow, he doesn’t look at me. He barely moves.