Art

Julia 5 – Bernard Cohen

Julia’s fate, her fate. Her liquid metal
voice, sebaceous and gilding. Turned
away from me heart-in-eye, hid in the
corner. Saying my name into the wall.

They’re going to eat you alive suburbia.
They’re going to broaden your shoulders.
They’re going to crown you as fiction. But
where is the eye of the cross?

Pupils in the shape of one.

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Stories

Manhattan – Jack Ludkey

He was at the bar.
Tall. 
Dark.
Handsome.
Just my type.
He was drinking a Manhattan.
A real man’s drink.

He was  sort of near some people but no one looked at him at all. 
It was like he wasn’t there.
I sat next to him and pretended to read my book about grief.
Buy you a drink?
Sure.

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Art

What is Bright Also Burns – Megan Busbice

a casual exploration of the fatal flaw

 

on the way to the farmers market
in the backseat of her Subaru
we talked about all the ways we would
become villains, in some other
version of the story. wry smile, thrown
backwards—a knowing meeting
of eyes. blue bandana, wicker basket,
crystals weighing in linen pockets—
I am already becoming exactly what
you wanted;

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Art

endless summer – Madi Bean

i.

Like a fly lolled into a cup of water
It’s an ancient and delicate process
Amy and Iwai were spending multiple days
in the cluttered bedroom of her childhood brownstone
she was now renting.
I patted the hyacinth, iridescent from heat treatment,
ran my fingers through the astro turf while Baby told me everything.

Everyone’s eyes were getting bigger
The park had a certain miasma that let the eye release
a drop of liquid as if riveted by the blunt force trauma
Of milk down your throat
Feet pulled along the pavement like bags of sand.

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