fall 2015
Table of Contents
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The Stale Cold Smell of Morning
Angela Rebrec
the neighbors knew i divined water
Hell is hot
Allison DeLauer
Why, And for What Purpose
Is There Something
Ace Bogess
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
what do you talk about
desire derives pleasure
aren't we missing every thing
gary lundy
Word on the Street
Henry Rappaport
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
Yellow Flowers
The World Dream
Ann Filemyr
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola
Good to See You
Eleanor Kedney
Saturday Night
Charles Springer
The Insidious Susurration
A Conversation
Marie-Andree Auclair
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
Alcohol
Fast-slow Continuum
Peycho Kanev
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
Girl I
Girl II
Carolyn Supinka
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
QED
I called out for help.
What I got was an overseer.
Petals
of the neighbours’
cherry, last
presses of fingers—.
Presses
at temples, backs
of knees, toes
and root
balls, stones, burning
grasses blaze the blood’s horizon.
Nis þæt hearu stow
it is not a nice place,
that’s litotes, sir, you
dumb fuck.
—Petals of an
unwithering fire,
wind innocent of all
harms it is and does,
have no mind to come
to come to rest in
thorns—each the face of a demon
seen edge-on.
To rest here.
Is not to call it good.
Demonstrandum.