Medieval


︎︎︎ Lotte Brown

︎ Apr 27, 2024

By the fire
sitting on a chair
that used to be
a painting
I read that the main reason
someone would want to marry
is to finally love
as much fully and endlessly
as one ever wanted
Legs up the wooden table
one white cat watching

















Lotte Brown is a poet, writer, and researcher. Poems and stories have appeared in De Gids, De Revisor, bonkmagazine, Liter, The Los Angeles Review, Hollands Maandblad, Tirade, Deus Ex Machina, Becoming the Forest, and elsewhere. Lotte divides her time between Ghent, Belgium and NYC.





New Year Poem


︎︎︎ Jacob Seferian

︎ Apr 16, 2024

IN BED WITH AN UGLY MOTHERFUCKER AGAIN SO I CLOSE MY EYES PRACTICE FOR WHEN I WILL FLINCH IN THE MORNING   CLEARLY   I HAVE TROUBLE RESPECTING MEN GOTTA BE TRICKED INTO IT. I SAW A TIKTOK WHERE A NATIVE AMERICAN ELDER SAID “TOO MANY PEOPLE BECOME THEIR SICKNESS” WHICH INSPIRED ME TO BUY A PLANE TICKET TO THE GRAND CANYON. I TOOK THE TIME OFF FROM WORK AND EVERYTHING BUT COULDN’T AFFORD IT SO I SETTLE FOR BIG EROSION IN TOWN TAKING LONG MOODY WALKS FAT JAMES DEAN STYLE AND THINK OF THE WAY MY LIFE HAS DEVOLVED FROM INDIRECT TO ACTUALLY AIMLESS AND THIS UPSETS ME. IT’S JUST THAT I NEED TO GET LAID MORE I TELL MY FRIEND AT SOME BAR. WHISKEY LEADS TO KETAMINE LEADS TO COCAINE LEADS TO HANGOVER ACHING TEMPLE FULL OF THESE FEELINGS BUT ENOUGH SELF PITY. I WILL GO TO A GROCERY STORE AND BUY SOMETHING HEALTHY LIKE CHICKPEAS. THIS YEAR I’M TURNING IT AROUND. I PROMISE. YOU KNOW ADRIENE THAT YOUTUBE YOGI MAYBE I’LL DO SOME OF HER VIDEOS. I SAW A TRAIN THAT WAS CARRYING ONLY TRASH BAGS. LIKE A METAPHOR. I DON’T WANT TO CHASE DEATH ANYMORE. A STRETCH OF SCAFFOLDING WITH NO POSTERS… DOES THAT MEAN ANYTHING? BOY DOES JANUARY SUCK. TALKING TOO MUCH BLAH BLAH BLAH TALKING TOO MUCH. I COULD STAND TO ROMANTICIZE MY LIFE A LITTLE MORE THE WAY PEOPLE POST PICTURES OF THEIR OUTFIT TEXTURES OR A PRINT WITH NO FRAME ON THEIR WALL WITH THE LIGHT HITTING JUST SO AND BECAUSE IT LOOKS BEAUTIFUL IT MUST MEAN SOMETHING. RIGHT? RIGHT. AT THE RESTAURANT I WORK AT THEY MADE US MEMORIZE WHAT WAS IN SAUCE AMÉRICAINE BUT I STILL DON’T KNOW I STILL DON’T.





































Jacob Seferian is a writer whose work has appeared in several magazines. He lives in New York City.





CHARACTER


︎︎︎ P.G. McNabb

︎ Apr 13, 2024

Don’t ask me to describe myself.
I could not even make my Self.
I have been
Distracted by another enigma,
Who fills in all
The detail. It’s not that I am
Too abstract, rather, someone else
Abstracted me, and I am
All they ever think of.














P.G. McNabb lives and writes in Minnesota. You can also read him in No More Prostitutes.





modern plight


︎︎︎ Owen Avery

︎ Apr 11, 2024

I'm thinking of the worst team in nba history,
and I feel so sad for them.







Owen Avery is a student currently walking in Connecticut. He enjoys words and images.

Also by Owen: Redeem





Know before as children


︎︎︎ Sam Robinson

︎ Apr 9, 2024

Receiving prehistoric intimations
“As the mind of ape is to human
so we are to the gods, building
sandcastles” I could cry salt
for an ocean to wash it all
away— the ruins come down to
us as stories or signals picked
up by those rare life-forms
possessing receptive antennae
groping forward hungry for future
I could cry— the innocent
laughter is a blessing playing
under the sun by an ancient ocean







 





 





















Sam Robinson is a writer from Massachusetts whose poetry has appeared in Blue Arrangements, No More Prostitutes, SWAMP, and Reap Thrill. He is the author of a chapbook, New Age Self Help (Bottlecap Press, 2024), and is the singer and lyricist of the band Be Released.

Also by Sam: RewildingBreaking Fast with Grapefruit