“Persephone’s Garden” by Heni Tinker

Is full of ghosts and 3 headed dogs, who germinate aconite bites blooming from barren anthracite, casting bones of ammonite in a fusion of green, the underworld queen traces you & I in our queerness, growing asymmetrical like moss, in imperfect profusions. She laughs, and spits seeds into the pitted

“Elegy 451” by Wendy BooydeGraaff

The keepers of the written words sat in the brisk spring air, the fire crackling in the center of their circle, sending sparks up high into the navy night. “This one is for the gods of grief,” the newest one said. She tossed her packet on the flames. “Grief is

“Window is Born” by Marie Vibbert

Window is Born Window is born Default properties X, Y, color Window has child Sprites (Open Photoshop sprites my beautiful children I have forgotten ) My fingers drop code blocks like dough too dry to clump { Fold these } Window spawns sprite, buttons, text Dangling children growing features Primitive

Back Online

👋 We’re back. If you have any reviews of the way the sky looks at 2am, interviews with previous mental health states, poems about organizing the bugs under your basement foundation, or essays about the politics of teeth–send them our way, friends. We’ve began accepting only 7 pieces per month.

“Throne World” By Armoni Boone

[On Crafting A] Throne World   “Opinor ergo sum” —  — my pen singing in the same key as a birthday candle’s dulcet surrender a wailing mother, a cooling Glock, an emergency call to prayer, a kiss hello, a welcome home.   Of all the realms hidden between your synapses,

“The Wisdom of Leaves” By Dawn Vogel

The trees, shedding, drop an accumulation of colored leaves across the forest floor. The animals, passing, observe their falling and interpret them like tarot cards.   Those leaves make the shape of a Pegasus about to take flight. The birds take solace in the image, knowing their journey will be

“Desert Ghosts” by Deborah L. Davitt

cresting white dunes, a long, hot trek—watchsidewinders slither across the ghostly bonesof a prehistoric sea taste the alkali,     the bitterness of lost waters against your thick tongue;     the mirage in the distance taunts you with your thirst when you close your eyes     plesiosaurs swim nearby— pressure bands

“Metaphysical Memory Museum” by Avra Margariti

First, it was wine and an assortment of cheeses. Then a walk through the park, the jasmine air slithering mildly between them. Later, on her porch, when a younger couple might have kissed in fleeting secrecy, she said, “Can I interest you in a tour of my museum?” Yes, he

“Large Battles” by Margaret Karmazin

The Seezali ship is visible ahead, darting in and out of asteroids as it approaches. Its crew apparently believes they are invisible but we Kalahamar can see through any cloaking device. The ship is twice the size of ours, but this won’t matter once we employ the Contraction. The thing

“Walking Ghosts” by Ella Wade

It was like this: she was there  until she wasn’t  In the time it takes for the sun to dip below the ground  She left everyone  Towards new sights and new sounds  New quiet like quiet she’d never known before  New darkness like the darkness behind your eyelids can’t hold

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