Stories
Narrative Outloud
We’d open our mouths and sink, trying to make an ocean of ourselves.
Poem of the Week
Imagine first the mighty blast. And then the mushroom cloud.
Poem of the Week
We were both up there smoking weed and axle grease, blinded.
Fiction
Cory only hires stoners so he has something on them if they try blackmail.
Poetry
Under Saint Peter’s Gate, I put good foot after bad, and derided, I chased.
Readers' Narratives
By the time we reached Shillong, Dadu had been cremated.
Poetry
Finger tracing the terrain, you hold me through autumn’s loss of color.
Narrative on the Road
We drink to Nixon’s impeachment again, this time with the good stuff.
Readers' Narratives
He kissed the arches of my feet. I watched myself in the mirror.
Poetry
You’ll learn to love the spoil, the apple’s softest flesh, the bruise.
Story of the Week
“She showed me her tits,” said Jimmy. “Bullshit!” said Frank.
Graphic Stories
My mother taught me to rebel within the boundaries of acceptability.
Photography & Art
Photo portraits, landscapes, and world scenes by Sandra Lloyd.
Photography & Art
A clandestine participation through a soundless beauty.
Nonfiction
Art is a way for the mind to master the body, even if it is not one’s own.
Fiction
I was nagged by those boxes from my old life stacked in the garage.
Poetry
she thrust to where her gut bucked acid & gave out a taurine heave
Poetry Contest Winners
I see now that motherhood is not required to speak a mother tongue.
Poetry
cannibal chowder and a kiss by the splashing voices of a pool
Poem of the Week
I lean I stumble toward you hoping you’ve not turned away yet.
Poem of the Week
The windshield’s dirty, the squirter stuff’s all gone, so we drive on.
Poetry
Maybe it’s a Thursday, & I’m coming home to make you dinner.
Poetry
God, I need to know what happened to those who tried to cross.
Poem of the Week
Show me your darkness, your nothing-to-see and everything to touch.
Poetry
Then I graduate to a four-digit mortgage inside an ornate gate.
Poetry
Forgive me, please, for continuing to believe that roses are beautiful.
Poem of the Week
A real or imagined boundary, crossed. End of the line. Lined out.
