Issue 1
Featured
Because I was never good at staying sober, / I chase highs in laundromats, the things I do / for heavy brass soil horn need hot wash, lavender / lemonade
I hate the sound of Judy Jetson singing melodically in an elevator. I once cursed on the elevator in a parking structure on the Fourth of July, said they were scary as fuck, and my mother banished me from her sight long enough to find femininity in a neon garden.
A fact, or a circumstance, of abuse, depending on which way the glass cuts your vision: if a child experiences a significant amount of trauma, early and consistent enough, the images that make up their experiences, dreams, visions, fantasies, abuse, and nightmares become a kind of kaleidoscopic mosaic.
184 miles on a full tank, snow on the ground, muddied as third act makeup, seventy miles an hour, headlight out, books at my side like wallflowers
I’m not sure about the white spaces (louder line breaks, perhaps?), but the fragments are often a result of my thriftiness.
The idea of one person owning every single bird of a specific species within any territory was wild to me, but I was far from home, and racing against the rain as we made our way to Buckingham Palace.
not just the sting of the whip, the nothingcoloredblue of the ocean / or the spaces so dark and putrid and red black brown fleshsmelling
A cursory study of Black women’s critical responses to Antebellum on YouTube reveals a high-level discourse and frustration about the trailer that is not present in most print reviews.
By Tara Isabel Zambrano. What would we do if we lost our limbs, our genitals, and lay next to each other, helpless throughout the endless room of night, our skin turning blue without touching, blue with loneliness, blue as an empty promise of forever love? (Sex, Kink, and the Erotic)
The coming-of-age writer is sitting in her first Fiction Workshop at a Liberal Arts College. She grew up devouring the stories of this country the way only an outsider could, by looking up each phrase and testing it out on her tongue.