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Literature Poetry Sean O'Connell

I don’t keep blood in my beer

I used to go dancing at the Painted Lady I used to go dancing in the afternoon lazily drinking youth and afraid of nothing but afraid of nothing except missing cheap oysters When the beer I tasted really mattered and how I tasted the beer I tasted really mattered When it mattered that the appetizer...

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Fiction Isabel Armiento Literature

Wasting Sickness

Why we continued to celebrate the new year every 365 days when it took this planet almost double that to revolve around the sun, I never understood. I’d have preferred the planet’s natural rhythms, forcing us to mark time in a slower way. Maybe then I wouldn’t find myself at the end of each...

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Khashayar Mohammadi Literature Poetry

Fall. Née Autumn.

Orientation desk music have YOU read Proust? God. the invisible sex of it. Claire. the eagle-eyed spectator. My substance: Honey. tea tea then nothing. London roads narrow my sense of dying. you love this shit. Joe, like wheat. a shared renaissance! Fall. Née autumn. words. soft. pedal. on dental...

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Catherine Lewis Literature Poetry

Floss

I tug you taut slide you slick you squeak up and down between my incisors and their neighbours tight fit forever loosened by pre-Invisalign shaving-down you choke my fingers your small green plastic case is too tiny for AirPods I swing your lid open unfurl you unwind you unspool you and at arm’s...

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Fiction K.B. Stockwood Literature

The Raven’s Job

The day was appropriately gloomy for a funeral. Raven perched on her ladder and sheared dead ivy from her windowsill, occasionally glancing at the procession of mourners mirrored in the glass. It wasn’t an unusual sight for a cemetery, of course, but she liked to watch over these things. There was...

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Jes Battis Literature Poetry

Brain Ghazal

The basement suite is leaking in my brain, connectors wet, though advertised brain-tight. My mentor, ice in her cup a rattling rain, from cancer-dark names me formidably brainy. I rustle into the paper bag of childhood, and touch the slick sweet jelly of sour brains. You take my photo on the...

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