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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,

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.

True Romance

Cody Ernst

Is it really warranted, for you to bring a gun to New York, city of high achievement? Thoughtless we both stood, me, trying to talk you down from taking an overdose of cerulean powder, you, intent on ingesting a headlamp so you could witness the inner beatings of your gut.

From the Archives

When the Sun Slips Down Behind the Mountain Like a Quivering Thought

Jono Tosch

I think when I die I want my tombstone to say, / This guy noticed things and took enormous pleasure / in the noticing.

The Progress

Geoffrey Nutter

This is where the wheel is broken at the cistern / and the weeds of dandelion rise to over six feet tall, / their star-shaped heads not yet in blossom.

Birthday Poem

Caitlin Pryor

Due to's responsive design, this poem is best viewed in desktop mode to preserve the line breaks as they were orignially intended by the…


Kaveh Akbar

the liver of a blowfish is said to / be the tastiest part it’s also the / most toxic an ounce enough to kill ten men

From the Blog

Dissimilar Multitudes

Co-Written with Karla Kelsey Grubby violet dusk.  Everywhere, the tongue-tang of rust…. In a recent collection, Night Vision, Claire Wahmanholm presents…

Re: Verse: On Anonymity and the Future of Collaborative Poetry

Co-Written with Chris Campanioni   Long before the Internet was re-routed from military servers and mainstreamed, Foucault understood the efficacy of…