Boats She stands at the edge of the dock thinking to set off for anywhere even the redeye of the storm. But the boat drifts dragging a net of obligations, heavy barnacle gowns clanking a train behind her. Because the question is always … More Two Poems by Genevieve DeGuzman
Ann sat at her kitchen table, snipping coupons from the weekly mailer. $.25 off Tampax, $.50 off Garden Burgers, buy one bottle of Suave, get the second bottle free. Ann placed these beside an envelope marked “Jennifer Dion.” $.60 off AXE deodorant. A free one-month membership to Sam’s Club. A whole page of Pizza Hut … More Out of Reach, by Shana Genre
People have been dying since people were people. I’m buying a lottery ticket so I can afford to take every assault rifle off the market, drop them into the middle of the Atlantic. Imagine an octopus at a shooting range: goddamn goddamn goddamn goddamn goddamn goddamn goddamn. Goddamn. Everyone who dies while someone is writing … More Guns Are People, Too, by C.J. Miles
I saw someone nail the moon into the pavement in Northwood last night. They ripped the plywood off and splattered constellations no one had ever heard of. Watched as the stars and the carpenters went shifting, writhing, dancing on top of black waves. They cluster into the nails, spiraling away, winking as they sink into … More Star Scatters by Laura Pastorino
In the mornings, I used to measure the amount of cream in my coffee by how closely I could match the color to my skin. One tablespoon would be too dark. Four tablespoons would be too pale. Four tablespoons was almost too sweet. The perfect color was somewhere between two and a half tablespoons, right … More Coffee by Celeste Jackson
In July, move into an apartment directly behind a gas station/Wendy’s combo. At night, eat dinner at the kitchen table, look to the right and stare at the glow of the drive thru. Some nights, the drive thru line curves around the building for hours, wonder if the fast paced patrons got gas first. Wonder … More being wendy’s neighbor, by katy sperry
Margaret Emma Brandl is a PhD candidate in Creative Writing at Texas Tech University, where she teaches classes and serves as an associate editor for Iron Horse Literary Review. She has an MFA in prose from the University of Notre Dame, and her work has appeared in Gulf Coast, Hobart, and Cartridge Lit, among others.
We honeymooned in Orlando at the Universal Studios theme park and found our way to a Jurassic Park-themed boat ride through thick trees and velociraptors—fun in an ironic, retro way. The absences and deficiencies in technology stuck out. There was a time—presumably when the ride was released in 1996—when visitors would have been scared by … More Scared by Michael Chin
How do I live with your ghost? Dishes in the sink, voices in the walls. This house is not big enough for three. In my defense, his hands. In my defense, his lips. In my defense, his perjury. In my defense, I wish to die so I may come back to you.