Our babies were unborn. They were manufactured by Mattel. Plastic or not, we had no capacity to deal with crying children. We had no time for child rearing. Didn’t we struggle enough in managing the minutiae of our own lives? We masturbated far too frequently to care for another human being.
consider: the [disabled] body as church
how its potential energy cannot be measured
That was what they were looking for, at least in part, when they’d booked the honeymoon for Nova Scotia: the happiness of the catch. So far, they hadn’t found it. Instead, they were trying to find their satisfaction in unexpected places: blackberries on the brambles, eagles perched on branches, moles on the run.
The women are calling out the men
& rightly so. I’m over here trying not to make noise.
I’m poor, the only sins I can afford
Are handmade. Mostly I watch TV. There, it’s sex
& death—dawn to dusk. It’s 3D desire in Dolby Atmos.
Our Summer 2018 issue is here! Featuring essays by Sarah Appleton Pine, Karen Benning, Jennifer De Leon, Matt Jones, Gretchen Knapp, and Angela Morales.
Fiction by Lindsey Drager, Elizabeth Gaffney, Anthony Inverso, and Perry Janes.
Poetry by Jasmine V. Bailey, Kai Carlson-Wee, Flower Conroy, Angie Estes, Torrin A. Greathouse, Judy Halebsky, Peter Krumbach, Michael McKee-Green, Jenna Le, Julian Randall, Jeffrey Skinner, Soren Stockman, and Zhang Zao (translated by Gavin Gao).