Online Issues

  • Issue 38,  Nonfiction

    Aim High

    photo by Joyce Ellis

    by Brian Ellis

    No childhood is complete without facing this one question one thousand times at least. It may come from a friendly aunt at Thanksgiving dinner, a well-meaning neighbor from behind the wooden fence or an adult you’ve never seen before and never will see again, but ultimately the person asking you the question is inconsequential. The important part is to have an answer for when the inevitable time comes. 

    “So…what would you like to be when you grow up?”

    Since you are a small child,

  • Fiction,  Issue 38

    The Guy Who Has 15 Things

    image curtesy of The Public Domain Review

    by MJ McGinn

    1)    Don’t look now, but they’re coming. They want your shit. They want it. They want it and nobody cares how you never had a birthday party. They’re hungry and wanting and wanting and hungry and wanting, and most of all, they’re coming.

    2)    I live on the backs of trains where it’s warm enough. If you can’t count the spokes, it’s moving too fast to get on or off.

  • Fiction,  Issue 38

    Self-Guided Study

    image curtesy of The Public Domain Review

    by Meredith Gordon

    This quiz is for self-enrichment only. Its content may be triggering.
    Any reaction should prompt further self-study. There is one correct
    answer for each question, but there are no wrong answers.

    A classroom, a back row, a dilemma: A 500-page statistics book sits with
    its spine uncracked on your desk. Under your desk, thick, glossy issues of
    Cosmopolitan, Glamour, and Self, are splayed open
    in your lap.

  • Issue 38,  Prose,  Translation

    “Out of Sorts” by Muzzafer Kale Translated from the Turkish by Ralph Hubbell

    Photo by Giovanni Apruzzese

     

    When you come across someone in one place after only ever seeing him in another place, you’ll likely have trouble remembering how you know him; but that’s not how this was!

    He comes in and takes a seat four or five tables away. I doubt he notices me. He looks preoccupied. One can get a little disheveled sometimes, it’s inevitable; somehow you can’t pull yourself together, which then makes it hard to notice whatever is going on around you. Or maybe he hasn’t woken up yet. There’s a fog in his head and it hasn’t even begun to clear.

  • Issue 38,  Poetry

    The Mountains Comes Down the Mountains

    Art by Andy Mister

    By Patrick Whitfill 

    Maybe there’s some great end game
    I’m missing out on with this last
    century’s revision to the nursery rhyme

    about the baby stashed in a tree, but I
    always thought, with kids, it’s best to lie
    only a little. Point to the window,

    say outside, because there’s nothing
    about transparency they need to know
    When my son noticed his shadow

    the first time, we had a choice to make:
    confess to what we don’t know,

  • Issue 38,  Poetry

    Ode to Edith Massey (Aunt Ida in John Waters’ Female Trouble)

    Art by Bill Wolak

    By Michael Montlack

    Secretly we all want to strut like you, squeezed
    into that laced-up leather catsuit, snaggle-toothed,
    bleached hair teased into a cotton candy mess—
    how easily you made Mae West pedestrian.

    Shouldn’t we all have an Aunt Ida to guide us
    in that purr simultaneously girlish and granny:
    I worry that you’ll work in an office … The world
    of the heterosexual is a sick and boring life.

    Virgin Mary, Egg Lady,