PABLO PIÑERO STILLMAN Before calling it quits Abby thinks we should visit the sage at the sacred McDonald's on Ridge that’s bathed in light 24/7. We've tried everything else—workbooks & therapy & sex toys & beach vacations—so I mean what the hell. At the PlayPlace the Hamburglar’s hosting a party for a five-year-old reincarnation of … Continue reading MARRIAGE COUNSELING


D. R. Shipp The day is all ham. Your sister, the cardboard heiress, macramé hair holding her head like a pot. Your colorless uncle in his climate resistant pants. All day long, they want to kill the flowers. Your body blooming, you carry shame in checkered mitts. It is two o’clock. Ham and two o’clock … Continue reading EASTER


VANESSA SAUNDERS YOU CAME ALL OVER the fiction. But this body is a museum of decay. He showed the cartographer his sarcophagus, which lay beneath the denim shorts he never took off. If he is in trouble, he will call. You are so American, she said. Which is to say. I no longer believe in … Continue reading YOU CAME ALL OVER

Sudbury Community Garden

Rage Hezekiah Sunflowers slump like drunks outside the bar, thick stalks necrotic— stripped of seeds by unfed starlings, dark birds pillaging the beds. Butternut squash hulls litter snowless soil, russet tomato skins stick to wet ground beside faded seed markers submerged in earth. February shouldn’t warm the loam, but I walk the farm with bare … Continue reading Sudbury Community Garden


Brian Woerner My father is an echo I can neither write nor run from: bald coin in my palm, or I swim in the grooved pool of his hands. Patron saint of batting practice, paint your shaving cream self-portrait in the clouded bathroom mirror. Stay with me. Don’t come any nearer. from Issue 31.1 BRIAN … Continue reading Icon


Michela L. Garabedian In San Joaquin Valley all the pretty girls wear yellow dresses. They wear yellow and pick chilies until their hands stain red. In San Joaquin Valley it never rains, though pretty girls would look awfully pretty in yellow dresses in the rain. In the backyard in my underwear and black training bra … Continue reading Fresno


S. Brook Corfman Do you know what it is to absence? How the moon curls away from itself into the blanket of sky? Look in turn at each exile, how each alone returns to the house, if each returns. The calendar's pages fall all out of order and even the fruit supports the war. Israel … Continue reading PARTICIPATION