Archives

SWALLOW by Hannah Grieco

September 2, 2025

The pharmacist has to get the key, which is missing for the moment. The tech apologizes. It was hanging by the fridge in the back, just yesterday. He’s not sure where it went, but the pharmacist will find it as soon she finishes filling the Lithium prescription. “Just the 300 mg, right? You guys are pausing the 150s?” Yes, 300 mgs. Once in the morning and twice at night. We’re moving down from the larger dose, but if I say, “Yes, we’re going down in the dose permanently, I hope,” if I say, “So far we’re doing pretty well,” if

LATE TO WORK by Benjamin Drevlow

August 28, 2025

This morning I’m hauling ass across the intersection across from the Krispy Kreme opposite the Kum & Go so I don’t get steamrolled by one of the yokels in their jacked-up pickups when some old lady in a jacked-up pickup swerves across oncoming traffic, throws open her passenger door, calls me honey and hollers for me to get in. I’m thinking she’s about to say she’s from the FBI and somebody has a hit out on me. But then she just says, You late to work, honey? I’m jogging in sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and winter hat. I tell her no

THE SYMMETRIES by Marshall Moore

August 27, 2025

A spider took up residence in my conservatory several months ago. It’s not enormous, half an inch in diameter, but I hate spiders. Winter loomed. Those were days of dread. A seasonal terror gnaws at people who live at northern latitudes as the sun sets incrementally sooner. Here in Cornwall, the exact time of sunset means little when clouds and rain can make it night-ish at three. Having a spider suspended overhead by the door, just over my clothes-drying rack, doesn’t help when my insides are already chewing themselves up over the darkness to come. My partner doesn’t hate spiders,

NOAH KUMIN INTERVIEWED by Matthew Binder

August 26, 2025

In 2023, I published a novel called Pure Cosmos Club. For reasons still unclear to me, it was embraced by the downtown New York literary scene loosely known as “Dimes Square.” Despite the association, I never made real inroads—not because of the rumors (funded by Peter Thiel? Christian reactionaries?) but simply because I was too shy. One of the scene’s more prominent figures is Noah Kumin, founder of The Mars Review of Books. From afar, I watched his profile rise through various ventures: the magazine, a popular podcast, and a reputation for hosting raucous literary parties. When I saw on

WOULD YOU TREMBLE IN THE PRESENCE OF THE VIRGIN SHOULD SHE COME TO YOUR TOWN? by Cortez

August 25, 2025

When Mother’s belly bloomed again, she pointed a french-tipped finger at the richest man in town. The accusation, though baseless, haunted him– it polluted his polished lawn, noosed his silk ties. This was a man shrunken, a spirit corrupted, a man of real stature driven sick. But the town was small, and Mother was only getting bigger, and so he wished her away with a lump sum. Mother had two girls at home. The little one, blue-eyed and painted with the peachy, airbrushed skin of Jesus, thought she might’ve been born of dirt, like Adam, or rib, like Eve. The

MRS BEATRIX by Glenn Orgias

August 19, 2025

The Gimp Box I lay in my apartment worrying about death and worrying that my constant worrying would eventually manifest in my sickness and death. So, when I saw a job ad looking for a “big guy” who was willing to “become anonymous” and to live in a “dungeon”, I said: Bingo. Because I really needed a place to hide out from Shovel. Mrs Beatrix’s place of business was on the cobbled streets of the Rossebuurt district, Amsterdam. “That house,” said a man, pointing at a terrace house. “The dungeon is below,” he said, with a terrible excitement. “Are you

UNDERGROUND READS FOR FREAKS WHO CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEW TOXIC AVENGER MOVIE TO COME OUT by Rick Claypool and Lor Gislason

August 18, 2025

Everything is fucked up, okay? Ask us what’s fucked up and if there was a gesture to gesture toward all of it, that would be the gesture we’d make. This deep, deep fucked upedness – which is also a wide, wide fucked upedness – means a lot of things. Geopolitical things. Authoritarian things. Environmental things. Toxic things. And you know what? We’re tired. And we’re guessing you are, too. And we’re just going to assume if you’re reading this that we’re all tired because we’re all doing our best fighting the good fight, doing what we gotta do, helping how

DAWNS by Bright Aboagye

August 14, 2025

On some days, you’re a ghost to your own body. Some mornings, your bones feel borrowed. Never been yours. Just something you’re renting till it all breaks down. You lie still and feel every joint light up like someone lit a match inside your marrow. *** It’s 4:27 am and you’re staring at your laptop, trying to write a suicide note that sounds less dramatic than it is. All you’ve got so far is, I am tired. Three words. Nothing more. You backspace it and watch the cursor blink like it’s judging you. It’s the only thing in this room

FORREST GUMP 3 by Julián Martinez

August 13, 2025

There was a billboard along the highway that read, FG3: ONE LAST RUN, Tom Hanks and Robin Wright profile to profile, stars and stripes behind them. The bottom text dictated: WATCH NOW ON AMERICAPLUS, so I opened my week’s ration of AmericaPlus and swallowed the last tab of blotter paper. It wasn’t enough to hallucinate, but my microdose made rush hour on the highway seem warm and tingly with sunset and my fellow commuters as carefree and wealthy as I briefly was.

RENTAL LEASE APPLICATION by Anna Koltes

August 12, 2025

Name: You almost write his surname in place of your own, a knee jerk response. You slap the mosquito that has landed on the back of your neck to feed. Upon assuming his name, you forgot your own. You grapple with the correct spelling. The vowels squish uncertainly inside your head, the consonants bumping awkwardly like soup dumplings. But this should be the least of your concerns. After so long together, your name isn’t the only possession you’ve left behind. Reason for moving: You can make something up here. It will be simpler. A barbecue fire that got out