Category: Series

TWO SHORT STORIES by Kevin McIlvoy

The Luthier’s mother’s mouth’s openness The Luthier’s mother’s mouth’s openness, her hands’ finger’s tremblings, her red hair’s fires’ warnings. It’s what you saw if you were making your last visit to her ever. You were the Luthier’s mother’s Possession when you walked into her son’s guitars’ home, in which son and mother also lived together…
Three Poems by Benjamin Miller

IN THE PLACE OF BEST INTENTIONS As this is not the land of ice packs and regenerations, of spent glue guns or antiseptic counters—since shy reminders filter through the streets…
Three Poems by Brian Komei Dempster

CROSSING No turning back. Deep in the Utah desert now, having left one home to return to the temple of my grandfather. I press the pedal hard. Long behind me, civilization’s last sign—
IOWA by Stephen Berg

When I think of it now I still see just how ugly and dirty the place was, what a bare unprotected monk-like life it was that year, living first in the old tire warehouse on the outskirts of town, no toilet or sink, no furniture, nothing except two ratty mattresses, fruit crates…
Three Poems by Sam Sax

I.35 i watch him touch him self over a screen and pretend it is with my hands how you pull a quiver from an arrow. he moans and i grow jealous of the satellites.
Maps by Patrick Lawler

“Who was it who decided on where Tallahassee should be?” Toby asks questions, and we laugh a lot. Stupid things really. But it makes you think, and it helps to pass the time. He takes the money when people pump their gas, and I do most of the other things, like brake jobs, tires, and…
Three Poems by Collier Nogues

MISSISSIPPI I know forgetting myself is a good thing, the best loss. The trees look soft in the fog’s distance, egg-colored light all over them. Even the sheep, eggy. The earth dries in ribs the rain has drawn on it.
Between the Lines:An Interview with Wesley Rothman

In this installment of “Between the Lines” we talk with Issue 5 contributor Wesley Rothman about poetic process, the creative relationships between different art forms, and poetry’s place in contemporary culture.
Story About a Woman I Used to Know by Jozefina Cutura

Milena always reminded me of a backdrop to a bleak landscape, a woman unlikely to arouse much conscious consideration, though she hovered around like an uncertain but inescapable future punishment. She popped in and out of our lives at random, insignificant moments. There was, for instance, that typically drab October afternoon in Frankfurt.
Three Poems by Melissa Ginsburg

THE JOB Not being stupid I took what was offered: the job was waiting and I did it with sand and mirrors, in glitter while I paced. I waited, I fell in love with waiting …
Two Poems by Yona Harvey

GINGIVITIS, NOTES ON FEAR I hesitate invoking that doubled emptiness: open— my daughter’s mouth in the bathroom mirror— not her first vanity but first blood inkling she tastes & smoothes with her tongue.
Foul Mouth by Devin Murphy

For the last hundred miles, Brooks’ ten-year-old son, Adler, had been yelling profanities out the window. It started during a break from driving. To stretch their legs they jogged down a rural road along the wire fence separating the pavement from endless rolling hills of grazing land.