“Snow Day” by Gaurav Madan

Art by Kate Shaw This story was originally published by Jaggery.   Quickly shutting the door of his dad’s old station wagon, Kabir worked the zipper of his hoodie toward his stubbly chin. The wind tore through the parking lot burying itself in the spaces between his shoulders. The afternoon extended through layers of gray. Crossing the parking lot, he kept his eyes fixed on the cracked asphalt, aware of the always-watchful lenses. The streetlights swiveled, peering through the flurries that had already begun to fall. Instinctively, he pulled up his hood to shield him from the cameras. One of … Continue reading “Snow Day” by Gaurav Madan

“above below” by Nadia Gerassimenko

  *This excerpt is featured in Gerassimenko’s chapbook at the water’s edge (Rhythm & Bones Press, 2019) Nadia Gerassimenko is the founding editor of Moonchild Magazine and proofreader at Red Raven Book Design. She is a freelancer in editorial services by trade, a poet and writer by choice, a moonchild and nightdreamer by spirit. Nadia self-published her first chapbook Moonchild Dreams (2015). at the water’s edge (Rhythm & Bones Press, 2019) is her second chapbook. She tweets @moonmoonmother. Continue reading “above below” by Nadia Gerassimenko

“Excavating A Point of Entanglement” by Sahar Khraibani

“This is how space begins,” writes Georges Perec “with words only, signs traced on the blank page. To describe space: to name it, to trace it, until in the end the land was only separated from the sea by a continuous ribbon of text.”   ***   I will begin with the act of pointing.    Lack masquerades itself as desire and desire takes the shape of a space. It pulses as the auto-focus on the camera hunts for the edge, or any point that settles it onto the horizon. She appears in the frame as a mere voice at … Continue reading “Excavating A Point of Entanglement” by Sahar Khraibani

“Thresholding” by Kat Bartlow

Myths tell of the hanged man as a fetus floating head-down, Suspended in some liminal fluid That fills the seamless space between the past and the future.    We are becoming more ourselves with every breath. I hear my heart mutter its name in my chest And then pause, listening for yours.    I do not have a promise for you or a ring to give you.  I cannot even gather words up in a sheaf to leave in a vase on your table. But I can place each of my hands in each of yours.  I can wait for … Continue reading “Thresholding” by Kat Bartlow

“Cockroaches of the Liberating Night” by Jack Lorenz A. Rivera

It is no wonder That cockroaches Fly, party, and thrive At night They feast on its darkness They sway on its shadows They flap their wings in glory At night For the night Is truly accepting Inviting, tempting, full of desires The night welcomes them In disco lights, in bars, in clubs In the narrow streets, in the corners No judgment, only acceptance In this beautiful, fabulous, avant-garde night For in the night Cockroaches can be butterflies And no one can smack their beautiful drags and make-ups With the slippers of the day, of that piercing ray Of reality, of … Continue reading “Cockroaches of the Liberating Night” by Jack Lorenz A. Rivera

“Kaa’s Trance” by Hibah Shabkhez

Ereyesterday, my pen could write this tale In the rich tongue of my own earth-mother; Overmorrow, a tapping thumb will nail Its fate to the sails of the conqueror.       It trembles. It cries to the story-dew Avaunt! ‘You’re wrong. I don’t belong. To you’   Today, like yesterday, like tomorrow Language bars the door to the telling.  It’s English: the jests need Urdu’s sorrow, And the gestures Punjabi’s wheaten ring   It trembles. It cries to the story-dew Avaunt! ‘You’re wrong. I don’t belong. To you’   Languemixes sprouting in the marches  Hire border reivers to steal them … Continue reading “Kaa’s Trance” by Hibah Shabkhez

“A Humble Visionary” by Emanuel Magno

He is a type of worm. Not just a bookworm, but a multilayered, multimedia little annelid, perhaps the same one Machado dedicated his works to, but maybe not. Always talking of wormholes, and when doing so one is always tempted to think of them as his holes, not necessarily through a continuum space-time in the physical sense, but as something purer, much more fundamental and general, but also much more particular and local, much more Personal than Einsteinian sheets and bridges and all those monstrosities. He talks a lot about teleportation, but one is really tempted to translate the term … Continue reading “A Humble Visionary” by Emanuel Magno

“How to Make a Magic Mirror” by Lorraine Schein

NOTE: The following piece is a found poem, excerpted and rearranged by me from an out-of-print book on magic. How to Make a Magic Mirror   The natural fluid condenser is composed of a number of natural materials that have been powdered and mixed together in roughly equal proportions. Each of the ingredients has its own potent and unique association with the Moon. It is not strictly necessary to use all of the things listed, but at least half a dozen of the ingredients, or reasonable substitutes for them, should be combined. Very little powder is needed, scarcely more than … Continue reading “How to Make a Magic Mirror” by Lorraine Schein

“An Erasure of an Anonymous Comment Posted on the Planned Parenthood Action Facebook Page Part I and II,” by Kate Wilson

I. Alright. Rule number 1: take an at home test ONLY (because of rule 2) Rule number 2: tell no one. Not over text not over phone. No social media. Don’t even tell your best friend. Rule number 3: take a mini vacation to another state. Go under the guise to sightsee or to visit family. Go camping/ fishing/etc. Don’t ever tell anyone anything else Rule number 4: obtain the abortion and DO NOT sign any waivers. If you do not sign any waivers giving consent for even providers to communicate to other providers, you are safe. Rule number 5: … Continue reading “An Erasure of an Anonymous Comment Posted on the Planned Parenthood Action Facebook Page Part I and II,” by Kate Wilson

“Moving Parts” by Avra Margariti

One day, our house grew tall arachnid legs and ran away with us in it. We held onto the nearest furniture for balance and speculated about the house’s driving force, but deep down, all three of us were relieved. We wouldn’t have to make any hard choices then. We wouldn’t have to break all we had built together over the last three years. It didn’t take us long to get our sea legs. Our house took us wherever it wanted to, and we three went along for the ride. Each day a room crumbled away, and a new one appeared. … Continue reading “Moving Parts” by Avra Margariti