by K. Fern Lauth

“A brief sliver of life and light Exists between the white silences”

by Amanda Andrews

“I’m hypersomnia trying to be an oneiromancer, only I’m also a cranky insomniac unable to create soundless dreams”

by Natalie Marino

“Uncle Jimmy finally caught a lucky break when the sky turned black and he was eight and out.” 

by Chris McCreary

“they blame the game, not the tablet making the brain pan nap its mangle.”

by Bob McAfee

“Fine day for a ride. Back in the saddle again. Wearing chaps and chap stick on Rodeo Day at the hotel from Hell. Relatives will be called to ID the body.”

by Hiram Larew

“Be sure to ask the flu and its shivers If there’s anything more Or even better to expect After tonsils or broth“

by Scott C. Holstad

“she thinks of flowers. she spreads her legs and touches herself. her fingers are drills.”

by Will Cordeiro

“A barren landscape, a blinding expanse. As if I had fallen into the subterranean reaches of a dry cave that opened out into shadowy folds of badlands.”

by William Doreski

“The sermon ends with a door slamming somewhere else, sealing off a dark room forever.”

by Rus Komutoff

“VOICES IN MY HEAD THESE ALMOST INVISIBLE CLOUDS OF BREATH KILLING TIME LOST DAYS ANONYMOUS TRANSCENDANCE”

by Thomas Jackson

“call an ugly over rugburn from pulled collar red rough textile stingturn on, bent knee stint fingers in mouth”

by MK Kuol

“everything ceases to be. everything… i become the ash of my poems―only survived by subdued commas―charred in time’s kiln.”

by Larry O. Dean

“Archie’s hardwares are tolerated by his newsagent and passive willingness, Edith (Jean Stapleton)…”

by Jonathan Fletcher

“Jesus boxing Satan tall, six-packed, chiseled a facial twin of Jared Leto…”

by Gerard Sarnat

“…fly again into regular quotidian lives.”

by Liam Strong

“[if we didn’t run                    from our prey][if we wore scars like scars & not berries                       for the plucking]…”

by Tom Zimmerman

“the roof of Hell my parents walked & bore of course dark shadows of their own but i believe i was the über shadow of the house the demon dynamo…”

by David Harrison Horton

“The armchair smells of cats and the deceased, a familiarity that brings no comfort.”

by Eva Alter

“…I sit in the sand and listen to the tides gasp Their satellite song.

by Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon)

“She spreads her thighs unashamedly:

- Here, here it is...
- What?
- My cunt, you idiot!”