Section

Poetry

Concrete Nocturne by Adrian Dallas Frandle

November 15, 2022

We came to the blurred edge of the world, us three, to swim in our definition.

November 15, 2022

I can almost sense the shimmer of some web I suspect I’ve had some part in weaving

November 1, 2022

We’re bleeders or will be. This is what they tell us in a dark room, blinds drawn, rows of desks just so

October 31, 2022

spiderwebs of veins of tendrils of blood you disown

October 31, 2022

i pray for the first time in years when i see you on that gurney.

A Parisian Affair by Kevin Wranovix
My wife and I arrive in Paris and check into our hotel on the edges of the 2nd and 9th Arrondissement.
Our Theseus by Nathan Jefferson
Last week he was a dishwasher who his coworkers called Ricky. Today he’s a day laborer named Eddie, clearing a pair of fallen trees off a new build’s lawn and fixing up a large garden. Rotting plank ripped out, new plank inserted.
Robbing the Pillars by Marie Goyette
It wasn’t yet six o’clock when the mine supervisor of Shannon Hill called the Byrd household and woke Ruth out of a simmering sleep.
The Call by Eben E. B. Bein
Saturation by Claire Oleson
I am diving for my mother’s last working kidney.