Interview with Ted Prokash

You are a veteran writer returning to the namesake of your second novel’s setting for some unfinished narrative business. What is it about Napawaupee? What does it mean to you? Why this story now? Is there any place worse than jail/prison?


The town of Napawaupee is more or less incidental in the case of the new book. The real setting of import is the jail,



Interview with Theresa Smith

We met in Brooklyn, sometime in 2011? You were playing in Home Blitz then, and have since played in several bands, and put out music under a number of monikers and in different styles. And you’ve been writing concurrently in one venue or another. Is there a relationship between the two worlds for you, or a trajectory from one to the other? How much does an internal narrative voice pervade in your life,



Fever – Renny Ramone

Nine cardboard boxes stacked on my Mother’s doorstep. She sent them here knowing I’d have no other place to go, at least nowhere with a decent shower head. I knew what was inside the boxes; I knew exactly what was inside those fucking boxes. That’s why I didn’t bother shifting the transmission into park. I wasn’t ready for any of this shit so I let my foot off the break and continued down the crescent driveway that trailed my Mother’s private door to and from the public street.



Three Poems – Cait Reynolds

February is Short and Unforgiving


The moon is destructive

mine resides in Scorpio

Let me keep this secret

it feels sacred when I’m quiet

let me be anxious with the dark

I’ll swim in your black water pool

what lies at the bottom does not concern me

Beasts and death scare me the least

We have frayed nerve endings in our fingertips

is that why we pushed them

inside of each other

deeper than we ought have

I’d let you rearrange my organs

to find a safe place

to leave whatever you have

left to give me

In my chest cavity

Frosted womb

Eroded stomach

You get caught in my throat

but leave enough room

for me to breathe