Fiction

Fiction

Falling Short

I saw everyone, having fallen short, on the ground

Poetry

Marge Simpson

Knows the heart ache of canaries. Hummimg bird to spilt milk No friends same dress Pearls that rarely dance Five dollar rose bouquets Without a

Poetry

Popular Experiment

  *synth beats* bright plastic blue screen green screen *auto-tune screams* chunky glasses tuned-in apathy *boy band* drive fast die young pretty corpse *twangy guitar*

Poetry

When You Grow Up

I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart

Fiction

Dear Spec

___The featured image accompanying this piece, entitled ‘Spectrum’, has been used with the permission of artist, Robert Alan, a mixed media artist from New York

LIT

Their Heads Came Falling Down

“I’m afraid your head will fall off,” Esme said. “What silly nonsense,” her friend replied. “No, this is serious,” Esme pushed. “I remember it happened