• prize-nominations-2017-slider

    Come See!

    Vinyl nominations for Best of the Net 2017 and Pushcart 2017 […]

  • nabila-lovelace-slider
    Poem of the Week

    Nabila Lovelace

    I want,
    after waking to the news
    that is always the news
    & changing the Facebook
    autoplay settings as to not
    see the blood out
    of where it is meant to be in
    of the black / brown him / her / they, […]

  • yalie-kamara-slider

    Yalie Kamara

    I. If you see me praying in the living room, never sit in front of me. You are not God.
    II. When we go to a restaurant and I don’t know any foods on the menu, never order me a meal that is spelled with silent letters. I came to eat, not to explore. […]

  • Aziza Slider

    Aziza Barnes

    Aziza Barnes is blk & alive. Born in Los Angeles, Aziza currently lives in Oxford, Mississippi. Her first chapbook, me Aunt Jemima and the nailgun, was the first winner of the Exploding Pinecone Prize and [...]


  • Rohan Chhetri

    October 14, 2016

    On the shore, you hear nothing above the water’s
    old insistence, but the slow clatter of pellets
    teased out one by one from the child’s face. […]

  • Cate Lycurgus

    October 14, 2016

    I have a matchless twin who is a rascal half the time. Meanwhile I am always vile—try to either strangle her or Xerox her entire. But we are cling wrap doubled so we cannot come apart. […]

  • Diannely Antigua

    October 14, 2016

    As I watch a man steal fruit on the corner
    of Myrtle Ave and Broadway, I want to know

    what to do with the memory, days of the week
    underwear, the hand cupping the small cones […]


Fiction/Creative Nonfiction

  • Adam Hamze

    March 30, 2016

    i have seen my lifeless body. it has its own name that sounds nothing like mine. it lives in the bathroom stall of some restaurant, bloody & left behind. in the ditch down the street from the university, rain falling on its silence. […]

  • SJ Sindu

    March 23, 2016
  • Mary Jean Murphy

    March 11, 2016


Poem of the Week

  • Iain Haley Pollock

    December 4, 2016

    Here’s the problem: the day and hour are bright.
    Sunlight, outside the window, as it falls through
    the remaining leaves of silver maples and tulip poplars,
    dapples onto the garden grass. The house is quiet […]