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London is an international idea

Emily Bludworth de Barrios

London is an international idea and a historical fact and a little piece of our youth like a stallion which stood about for some years standing still within those some years (with muscles and veins full of warm hot blood)


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Three Fictions

W. Todd Kaneko

It’s late on a Saturday night and Metalhead is at some kid’s basement party. The kid got the new Slayer album that afternoon and has it blaring because his parents are not home. Rockgod holds both hands up in the air like he is prey for bandits, but the rest of his body convulses, his head shaking back and forth, up and down and windmilling along with the drum beat. Metalhead laughs and then there is a body careening into him, pushing him into another kid who is jumping and shimmying against the wall because heavy metal is the stuff that binds kids together, the fray that keeps their blood inside them. When Metalhead’s sister has her friends over, they dance in the living room to Madonna or Culture Club while his father complains that the music is too loud. Metalhead can feel the guitar in his teeth, can feel the speakers’ rumble deep in his chest.

New: Now Contains Zinc

David Kirby

Artist friend of mine works part-time at a store that sells Red Rooster pills to any guy who thinks he needs a “male sexual performance booster” or any gal who wants a 60-tab bottle of that reliable blend of proven herbal supplements,

From the Archives

Acid

Allegra Hyde

You’ll say it was because your parents didn’t understand you—that’s why you left—but really it’s because they understood you too well…

Potatoes

Marcela Sulak

this once-heretical root, domesticated / for latkes. My calendar's terribly reduced.

Feathers

Jennifer Bullis

St. Christopher strides across the river. Both hands grip a walking staff bracing him against the current, his calf muscles flexing as fish swirl about his legs. He is looking up at the infant Christ perched birdlike on his right shoulder. This is perhaps the moment in which the Saint, who does not yet know the identity of the child, is said to ask Him, “Why are you so heavy?” and Christ answers, “Because I bear on my shoulders the weight of the world.”

YOU CAN’T ESCAPE WHEN YOU’VE BEEN UNDERWATER ALL ALONG

Robert Krut

...here / in the ocean caves where we breathe air, / sweet air, dewy with imprints of the shark / crimes, where the waves carry long lost envelopes

From the Blog

On Violence

$138,000 into the story, there is nowhere else to go. I spent my twenty-seventh year typing letters of application, the nerves in each hand wrecked by…

On Shame

156,000 into the story, the room is empty.   The man I have started dating listens to my stories of how the dinners at the American Academy would unfold,…