

“Mom.”
“Mom.”“Mom!”“Momma, look!”“Mom!“Look, Momma!”“Look!”
My coffee will never be strong enough. I stir the pancake mix while the pan heats. A little bowl of concrete. The morning ...
You’re Gonna Miss It by Jen Eve Thorn
Flash Fiction

I could see him. He was defying the hot temperature with his deep breathing. He appeared anxious. His bare feet bounced on the ground, repeatedly striking the sand’s dust. On him was the smell of blood that was ...
Life Is Us by Hüseyin Babacan Translated by Aysel K. Basci
Translations

It Will Have Been So Beautiful by Amanda Shaw
Review by Robert Dunsdon
Publisher: Lily Poetry Review
Publication Date: March 21, 2024
ISBN: 9781957755359
Pages: 92
It takes a degree of confidence, and no small ...
It Will Have Been So Beautiful by Amanda Shaw Review by Robert Dunsdon
Book Reviews

boy to boy to the sidewalk, fingers that tingle like grass and touch. boy to boy to arms embracing and the streetlights all go out at once. boy to boy to hunger, to Yom Kippur, to Jewish holiday psalms and songs that ...
boy to boy to bed by Sam Herschel Wein
Poetry

When I wake up, the world is upside down. The car is ragged plastic and skin-stained glass. Ryan’s body crumples against the passenger door, right arm bent around his back like he’s scratching a hard-to-reach itch. ...
it keeps going like that by Leah Francesca Christianson
Fiction

Step 1:
Look down. It isn't. It is. View the absence. The dead space before realization. All the hands to mouths, eyes crowning, light like a holy orifice breaking open to speak what you've done. Look at your ...
How to Stop What Could be Born Inside of You by Maisie Williams
Nonfiction

RefugeeKick me in my face If I ever say that I love the hill tracts Wild elephants have devoured The green sheaves of paddy It's the hills that have taught them That you gotta eat when you’re hungry I also feel ...
Two Poems by Umma Habiba Translated by Quamrul Hassan
Translations

There was Christmas; there was Venice. Both arrived too late for us. The word, alluvione, meant flood but sounded less frightening, and—like everything in this country—it ran precipitously off our tongues. Then it ...
Alluvione by Vincent James Perrone
Flash Fiction

So, this is just college, says M, age 11. It is, I say, looking around at what I look around at all the time, especially the space where the historic sycamore used to be. All the ghosts, probably.
I can’t say I have ...