VAPOR TRAILS by SJ Han
Every hour or so, we fell silent to watch metal beasts bellow and tumble into the night sky, forgetting about the bug bites we collected on our ankles.
COUNTDOWN by Ash Kaul
You mutter “Fuck you” under your breath at his daily counting routine, for the apathy it shows for the hell the world is girdled in.
CHOPS by Keith Dromm
He would sometimes repeat it under his breath. Chops, have to have chops, have to have chops.
LEAVE IT by Abby Feden
I liked existing in peripheries. I imagined myself stuck deeply in mud and drowned and decaying but still there, still part of the river.
EL ORGANISMO by Rodrigo Toscano
Mom counted five full-length films of him sensually posing in Late American Empire formal wear in different promote-me positions.
MATTRESS COUNTRY by Travis Dahlke
A newspaper reporter is writing an article about the head on the stick. How it mysteriously appeared one day.
ALL THE LITTLE BABIES UP IN HEAVEN by Alayna Becker
The baby gurgled and mawed. After getting passed to the last teller, he screamed a pitch so high I covered my ears.
A FLAWED GUIDE TO ANTIFRAGILITY by Kevin Zhu
List To-Dos. Vent secret frustrations. Compose abominable poems. Dream impossible fantasies.
FOREVER 21 by Sylvia Math
As our postcoital conversations pushed us further and further away from each other, I lounged in his bed, nibbling on a melting L or Q or F.
HOUSEBROKE by Stephanie Gresham
It happens more than a person might think, animals in the house. Squirrels nest in a closet, a rat snake curls up in the tub.