January 2025
Issue 91
January 2025
Issue 91
Poetry

Molly Seale
“Disappearing Home,” “Shopping With My Mother,” and “A Little Fiction”
ramrodded the four year old,
imprisoned the two gray tabbies,
locked them all in the ‘77
white LTD with the green vinyl interior
left to me by my mother upon her death.

Steve Biersdorf
“Polyglotony,” “Quadrophonic,” and “Photogenia”
the nasally whine of a two-stroke motor,
hedge trimmers whipsawing
weeds framing sidewalk, infiltrating

Naomi Anne Goldner
“Starting from the Middle,” “Heap of a Human,” and “First Love After”
a gush of red
Moon-pale I waited those eternal
stretched seconds
for my
arms to be filled
with you.

Alan Hill
“A Quiet Black Wedding,” “The Broken must find the Broken ,” and “So Many Lengths of Time”
a practice run to make the death of us
this love we had, a little easier to finish.
We have come apart, the skin of us slide
to be faceless, naked, the bones of us stand free

Katherine Orfinger
“First Man,” “Deal With It,” and “The Socks”
on the back of my neck
where the phantom of your
hand rests just
outside the confines of
my comfortable reach

Nick Vasquez
“Nocturne,” “Flint Ridge Overlooking the Klamath River,” and “Aubade for Lisa”
draped over the arms of a couch, she whispers
stars plucked like cherry blossoms.
A smokey hush fills the room

Jesse Darnay
“Dissolution of My Father,” “My Mother’s Faith,” and “Crying: Process”
Your spineless nerves sear my ventricles.
The creative will will snap your cheekbone—
hush, soil, remains.
Look at the blank between us
squeezing my shoulders.

Claire Coenen
“the wish,” “imperatives at the lake,” and “sister song”
like a toddler hurling her blanket through the night,
after all these efforts manifesting goals, dreading
rejection, willing perfection like a cheerleader

Jake Sheff
“A Duplex Only Turns 43 Twice,” “Accidentally Down and Out in Dublin,” “Here and There on a Triple-Helical Journey to the Islands and Highlands of Scotland”
Your fans say death’s a foreign coincidence.
They also say a forgotten coin’s never
Spent, but its odyssey costs us a day.
In 42, you slid like theodicy.
In Get on Up, you put an omen’s plaything

Molly Seale
“Disappearing Home,” “Shopping With My Mother,” and “A Little Fiction”
ramrodded the four year old,
imprisoned the two gray tabbies,
locked them all in the ‘77
white LTD with the green vinyl interior
left to me by my mother upon her death.

Steve Biersdorf
“Polyglotony,” “Quadrophonic,” and “Photogenia”
the nasally whine of a two-stroke motor,
hedge trimmers whipsawing
weeds framing sidewalk, infiltrating

Naomi Anne Goldner
“Starting from the Middle,” “Heap of a Human,” and “First Love After”
a gush of red
Moon-pale I waited those eternal
stretched seconds
for my
arms to be filled
with you.

Alan Hill
“A Quiet Black Wedding,” “The Broken must find the Broken ,” and “So Many Lengths of Time”
a practice run to make the death of us
this love we had, a little easier to finish.
We have come apart, the skin of us slide
to be faceless, naked, the bones of us stand free

Katherine Orfinger
“First Man,” “Deal With It,” and “The Socks”
on the back of my neck
where the phantom of your
hand rests just
outside the confines of
my comfortable reach

Nick Vasquez
“Nocturne,” “Flint Ridge Overlooking the Klamath River,” and “Aubade for Lisa”
draped over the arms of a couch, she whispers
stars plucked like cherry blossoms.
A smokey hush fills the room

Jesse Darnay
“Dissolution of My Father,” “My Mother’s Faith,” and “Crying: Process”
Your spineless nerves sear my ventricles.
The creative will will snap your cheekbone—
hush, soil, remains.
Look at the blank between us
squeezing my shoulders.

Claire Coenen
“the wish,” “imperatives at the lake,” and “sister song”
like a toddler hurling her blanket through the night,
after all these efforts manifesting goals, dreading
rejection, willing perfection like a cheerleader

Jake Sheff
“A Duplex Only Turns 43 Twice,” “Accidentally Down and Out in Dublin,” “Here and There on a Triple-Helical Journey to the Islands and Highlands of Scotland”
Your fans say death’s a foreign coincidence.
They also say a forgotten coin’s never
Spent, but its odyssey costs us a day.
In 42, you slid like theodicy.
In Get on Up, you put an omen’s plaything
Poetry

Molly Seale
“Disappearing Home,” “Shopping With My Mother,” and “A Little Fiction”
ramrodded the four year old,
imprisoned the two gray tabbies,
locked them all in the ‘77
white LTD with the green vinyl interior
left to me by my mother upon her death.

Steve Biersdorf
“Polyglotony,” “Quadrophonic,” and “Photogenia”
the nasally whine of a two-stroke motor,
hedge trimmers whipsawing
weeds framing sidewalk, infiltrating

Naomi Anne Goldner
“Starting from the Middle,” “Heap of a Human,” and “First Love After”
a gush of red
Moon-pale I waited those eternal
stretched seconds
for my
arms to be filled
with you.

Alan Hill
“A Quiet Black Wedding,” “The Broken must find the Broken ,” and “So Many Lengths of Time”
a practice run to make the death of us
this love we had, a little easier to finish.
We have come apart, the skin of us slide
to be faceless, naked, the bones of us stand free

Katherine Orfinger
“First Man,” “Deal With It,” and “The Socks”
on the back of my neck
where the phantom of your
hand rests just
outside the confines of
my comfortable reach

Nick Vasquez
“Nocturne,” “Flint Ridge Overlooking the Klamath River,” and “Aubade for Lisa”
draped over the arms of a couch, she whispers
stars plucked like cherry blossoms.
A smokey hush fills the room

Jesse Darnay
“Dissolution of My Father,” “My Mother’s Faith,” and “Crying: Process”
Your spineless nerves sear my ventricles.
The creative will will snap your cheekbone—
hush, soil, remains.
Look at the blank between us
squeezing my shoulders.

Claire Coenen
“the wish,” “imperatives at the lake,” and “sister song”
like a toddler hurling her blanket through the night,
after all these efforts manifesting goals, dreading
rejection, willing perfection like a cheerleader

Jake Sheff
“A Duplex Only Turns 43 Twice,” “Accidentally Down and Out in Dublin,” “Here and There on a Triple-Helical Journey to the Islands and Highlands of Scotland”
Your fans say death’s a foreign coincidence.
They also say a forgotten coin’s never
Spent, but its odyssey costs us a day.
In 42, you slid like theodicy.
In Get on Up, you put an omen’s plaything
Fiction
New Fiction

Kendall Klym
The White Blouse
August 1990
A ten-year-old girl named Ursula Dahl chases after a porcupine behind her mother’s trailer, her frizzy red hair sparkling in the late-summer light. The animal escapes through a wild raspberry patch, but the child refuses to give up.

T. G. Metcalf
A Life Made of Words

Suzanne Zipperer
Reckoning

Quin Yen
Quota

Sean Newman
Nostalgia Zombies
Since then, I built my career while Derry played in a band. I saved for retirement and Derry saw the world. And when I bought a house, Derry was still burning through a revolving door of roommates. Derry always used to say, “Sam… you’re the Yin to my Yang.”

David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage

Kendall Klym
The White Blouse
August 1990
A ten-year-old girl named Ursula Dahl chases after a porcupine behind her mother’s trailer, her frizzy red hair sparkling in the late-summer light. The animal escapes through a wild raspberry patch, but the child refuses to give up.

T. G. Metcalf
A Life Made of Words

Suzanne Zipperer
Reckoning

Quin Yen
Quota

Sean Newman
Nostalgia Zombies
Since then, I built my career while Derry played in a band. I saved for retirement and Derry saw the world. And when I bought a house, Derry was still burning through a revolving door of roommates. Derry always used to say, “Sam… you’re the Yin to my Yang.”

David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage

Kendall Klym
The White Blouse
August 1990
A ten-year-old girl named Ursula Dahl chases after a porcupine behind her mother’s trailer, her frizzy red hair sparkling in the late-summer light. The animal escapes through a wild raspberry patch, but the child refuses to give up.

T. G. Metcalf
A Life Made of Words

Suzanne Zipperer
Reckoning

Quin Yen
Quota

Sean Newman
Nostalgia Zombies
Since then, I built my career while Derry played in a band. I saved for retirement and Derry saw the world. And when I bought a house, Derry was still burning through a revolving door of roommates. Derry always used to say, “Sam… you’re the Yin to my Yang.”

David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage

Nathalie Guilbeault
Bleeding Dyad

Sandro F. Piedrahita
A Shower of Roses

Michel Sabbagh
Getting The Memo
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.

Nathalie Guilbeault
Bleeding Dyad

Sandro F. Piedrahita
A Shower of Roses

Michel Sabbagh
Getting The Memo
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.
Fiction

Kendall Klym
The White Blouse
August 1990
A ten-year-old girl named Ursula Dahl chases after a porcupine behind her mother’s trailer, her frizzy red hair sparkling in the late-summer light. The animal escapes through a wild raspberry patch, but the child refuses to give up.

T. G. Metcalf
A Life Made of Words

Suzanne Zipperer
Reckoning

Quin Yen
Quota

Sean Newman
Nostalgia Zombies
Since then, I built my career while Derry played in a band. I saved for retirement and Derry saw the world. And when I bought a house, Derry was still burning through a revolving door of roommates. Derry always used to say, “Sam… you’re the Yin to my Yang.”
Art

Mark Rosalbo
Finding a Pathway
LONG SHORT STORY
Novel Chapters
Nathalie Guilbeault
Bleeding Dyad

Sandro F. Piedrahita
A Shower of Roses

Michel Sabbagh
Getting The Memo
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.


Nathalie Guilbeault
Bleeding Dyad

Sandro F. Piedrahita
A Shower of Roses

Michel Sabbagh
Getting The Memo
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.
LONG SHORT STORY

Nathalie Guilbeault
Bleeding Dyad

Sandro F. Piedrahita
A Shower of Roses

Michel Sabbagh
Getting The Memo
Not that Eleanor joined the news biz to do her readers in or feed them dreck made of letters put together.
Nonfiction

Toni Palombi
Whispers of the Beloved

M. Betsy Smith
Go Now

Marianne Dalton
Anything But Ordinary

Lisa Lebduska
Memoir of a Zebrafish

Stephen Akey
A Few Light Edits

Toni Palombi
Whispers of the Beloved

M. Betsy Smith
Go Now

Marianne Dalton
Anything But Ordinary

Lisa Lebduska
Memoir of a Zebrafish

Stephen Akey
A Few Light Edits

Toni Palombi
Whispers of the Beloved

M. Betsy Smith
Go Now

Marianne Dalton
Anything But Ordinary

Lisa Lebduska
Memoir of a Zebrafish

Stephen Akey
A Few Light Edits
Nonfiction

Toni Palombi
Whispers of the Beloved

M. Betsy Smith
Go Now

Lisa Lebduska
Memoir of a Zebrafish

Stephen Akey
A Few Light Edits

Marianne Dalton