Britteney Black Rose Kapri
Casually. In between a joke and her fingers inside. Something about scarred. Something about trauma. Clinical. I do not laugh. […]
Articles by VinylEditors
SJ Sindu
In Singapore, halfway through her journey, Nandini sits in a cramped room memorizing her fact sheet. Hot air swirls inside the walls, unmoved by the lethargic, creaking ceiling fan. All five of them have been stacked in here for a week—Nandini, her mother, her three little brothers. Her fa-ther had stayed behind in Sri Lanka. […]
Peter Mason
New work by Peter Mason plus a conversation between Peter and Phillip B. Williams. […]
Jennifer Givhan
is that what they see
burns imprints in the light
so when I close them there are shadows
the shapes of what I cannot lid […]
In Support Of: A Statement Against Abusive Behavior in Our Creative Community
We are a group of Black writers and artists who are Men or people with Male Privilege (MMP). We stand against violence against women. We write in public defense of all those who endured abuse or silencing by the very communities built to protect them. […]
Emily Paige Wilson
Steam, like a savior, rises over water.
Laying in the blue, older women bathe.
Heads back, necks golden and open, […]
Alban Fischer
Everything’s transcendence. It’s a problem.
Though I’ve tried to come back down, to be an animal again,
it doesn’t take: The afterlife’s a living shame. […]
Stephanie Bryant Anderson
Stephanie Bryant Anderson lives in Clarksville, TN, where she attends Austin Peay State University as an English major. She edits Red Paint Hill Poetry Journal. Her first poetry collection, Monozygotic | Co-dependent will be […]
Kaveh Akbar
Without the benefit of fantasy
I can’t promise I’ll be of any use.
Left to the real world I tend
to swell up like roots in the rain,
tend to get all lost in hymns
and astrology charts. Lately
Left to the real world I tend
to swell up like roots in the rain, […]
Mary Jean Murphy
Lauren had big tits, swollen and weighted down with bologna-sized areolas, like she’d been waiting a very long time for someone to milk her. Maybe it was her tits, maybe it was the pink ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, but the sight of her made me want to moo. […]