Issue Two

Even a Junkyard is Glorious at Night

Jerry cracked open a cold cola. The sun bouncing off all the metal around him made the junkyard feel like he was busting his back digging ditches in Death Valley all day. He drank the whole can in seconds, crushed it with one squeeze. Thirst quenched, he grabbed his...

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Poke Her

Alice, hey. Who told you? I'm okay. I'm roughed up a little bit but nothin like last time. I still got all my teeth. Jesus, I'm sorry. I know. I know. It wasn't funny. But somethin's gotta be funny tonight because the drugs they got pumpin through me sure as shit...

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Understand

The knee is an evolutionary masterpiece that permits near flawless ambulation, the seemingly simple, yet preposterously complex act of kneeling. Without knees, we would never have been able to crouch in stillness behind flowering bushes, hide from predators who could...

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Tumor

Oh great bright peach burning in my throat. You smother my voice, feed off my breath, turning and revolting against me. I would rather jab a knife and swallow blood than lie on my back day after day, under that mesh mask… The hood of silence hovers over me and at last...

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The Last Supper

Strapped to a board with needles in his arms, Hubert still tasted chicken parmesan.  He smiled at his reflection in the Plexiglas mirror, horrifying the onlookers on the other side. It wasn’t to gloat or scare them. He shed such impulses long ago. It was the marinara...

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Square knot, surgeons knot, bind or bight?

Square knot, surgeons knot, bind or bight? We fought for you to go with your aunt to Europe. [Unspoken caveat: your high school grades must be perfect.] I know I’m failing Chemistry. They don’t. I am failing because I am in an advanced class that expects me to induce...

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3000 Year Old Trousers Found in Chinese Grave

So archeologists found the pants?   No bones about it. ~~~~ In his low-hanging crotch pants, her warrior could get her to do anything.  She’d neigh and nuzzle like a heavenly steed, bend and flex in shadow dance along their mud brick courtyard wall. He’d whisper “two...

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Not Making Heads or Tails

Winter Diary … 1/2018 I broke your heart with the back of my mind – from a John Hiatt song The wipers are frozen to the windshield. I chip & chip. Nothing. Ice, still falling. Mid-twenties today. Exhaust rises as I let the truck warm up. That should do it. Inside, the...

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ontological clam

my septum is not in alignment with my goals. i have no goals except to say that my nose needs to be more in alignment with my goals. when they misplaced mount fuji and then i found it under kilimanjaro. kill a man, jaro. jaro? in the sock drawer. i throw a picture of...

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The Women

It’s my night at the women's homeless shelter. I mix shredded lettuce, apple slices and ranch dressing into a bowl the size of the moon. Chicken bakes inside the oven and potatoes wait to be buttered. The women have chosen their beds. An older native woman shakes her...

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Norm MacDonald Makes Me Horny

Stomach full of frozen margaritas—naked—salt on my lips, I siphon gasoline from Mom’s Mazda Roadster with a garden hose wrapped around my neck—drooping from my shoulders with the ballooning bulk of a Boa constrictor. KFC buckets splashing soggy brims, I douse myself...

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Avery, Zooming

Avery, eyes closed, counts off the seconds, her tongue tapping against the roof of her mouth. Beside her, the baby lies sprawled across the mattress, milk dribbling from the corners of her mouth, her breath rattling with the tail end of a persistent cold. Caroline is...

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The Last Rites of Girls

We stole cigarette butts, lit them like candles looking cool on the way out. We took turns tearing our hymens by accident, ripping holes in jeans to finger their soft furry mouths— our holy parts newly parted. We blessed swimming pools, roller rinks, dumpsters and...

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Momma

I’m Momma just before she’s ready to go out. Her date will be here any minute, honk his horn and she’ll be off—blowing us kisses and telling us to be good and not to stay up too late. Watch the baby, she’ll say and then we won’t see her for at least a day. I’m Momma...

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Which Came First?

I cracked an egg and dumped it into a bowl. Slashed across the yolk was a cooked chicken shred, like the nightmares of my childhood, flesh in place of eyeball or claw. I’d have preferred the claw or eyeball: it would have made a kind of sense. Some say the...

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WE BOTH KNOW COMBUSTION IS NEVER SPONTANEOUS

My dad won’t leave the porch again. He’s attached to his rocker. The rotted wood and the chipped paint, parts of his body now. His elbow and butt, parts of the chair. I offered to go on a walk with him, but he just looked at me, a Swisher Sweet hanging from his mouth,...

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The Thing Between Your Legs

Mother always told us to refer to that place as the thing between your legs. We were never to say vagina in front of Father, or our one lone brother. Mother kept her legs crossed – always at the ankle, never at the knee. But there were six of us, plus the dead baby,...

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