By: Ivan S. Fiske Iv Good Bye I quarantined you in my heart,in the hands of my heartI held you carefullybut it’s likethe spaces between the fingers of my heartwere so wide that you seep through& I lost you& you…

By Christopher Johnson Billy Goat is the place, man.Blackhawks jerseys bleeding a pungent ocean of scarlet and Indian head.The congealing of people into creatures called Chicagoans.The crappy little tables laden with bottles of bubbles and hops,Stained with suds and Scotch…

By: Dennis Vannatta They’re our secret desires, Freud said of dreams.  If so, why does this endless night of dreams keep bringing me to such wretched places?  Empty streets under dour gray skies in one. Heat and dust in another. …

By: Ilgin Yildiz The predicament of our moment (Anthropocene, Chthulucene, Capitalocene…) calls for disruptive ways of thinking and acting. A (re)reading of Michel Serres with feminist new materialisms (FNM) can lead us towards creative, realistic, and pluralistic ways of understanding…

By: John Grey MAINE FISHING VILLAGE, END OF DAY This evening’s oceanis murky blue. Locals swab their boat decks,rid the planks of today’s fish smell,make way for tomorrow’s. It’s been a good day for their pots,their nets. Storms roll inbehind…

By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey The rhythm woven in swift stepscascading light dispelling fear,evanescing darkness.The howl of storms spellingmystic hiatus between creationand destruction in feast of fury.Cosmic energy unleased in torrents,breaks the silence of thunderfilling the sky with strings of lightbeneath…

By: J.K. Durick Effects You just like the sound effectsof moving, of getting upthe sound your knee makesor is it your hip this time.It’s become a measure you usea counting up, or downtiming you from where you areto where you’re…

By: Tamoha Mukhopadhyay Last night exasperation ravaged my door,Manifesting futile loveMy vanquished soul broke into merciless tremors.The walls of my heart painted surreal shadows. Anguish blared in the tune of my anklets,In The Dilapidated construct of nightmareWhich blew across my…

By Ellis Shuman I remember meeting Milena the day I rode on one of Sofia’s rusty orange trams for the first time. I remember boarding, searching for somewhere to validate my ticket. The ticket was a thin piece of paper,…

By: Anthony Ward             Will painstakingly painted the same scene over and over. Like Monet’s Rouen Cathedral. Except this was no cathedral. It was the stone wall that enclosed his own back yard at the end of the lawn behind…