by Danny Fantom It’s the smell of bubbling rubber that wakes me and then I see a slash of black like a gaping maw opened up in the space next to me– it SWALLOWS– the nutty dirty pleasant smell of melting rubber overtakes the smell of tenderraw and the TH-THUMP-TH-THUMP of my heart matches the…

by Victor Clevenger she grabbed her daughter’s left arm & yanked her up from her seat     let’s leave     she said     he’s always been an asshole & nothing has changed      what a scumbag said a lady at a nearby table     a waitress behind the counter told her boss that she’d definitely spit in…

(after Rachael Crosbie’s chapbook, self-portrait as poems about bad poetry) SO I CONCEDE TO ARS, BY WHICH I MEAN poems in  articulate as rawdawn haze.i mean somewhere there is uncooked meat.i mean there is something hereinside of me which i mustrefuse. my body belies a bloat. i mean a boat. a vicarious ghost straddlesmy horizon that bitchembottled…

by Audrey Lee Audrey Lee is the author of the poetry collections “Disjecta Membra” (Bottlecap Press, 2022) and “Probably, Angels” (Maverick Duck Press, 2020). Her work has been featured in or is forthcoming from Wax Nine, Necessary Fiction, and Back Patio Press. She writes her newsletter “Very Normal Girl” on Substack. She lives in Philadelphia,…

by [sarah] Cavar I.  The tubes made pigeons of us. Nothing like a great hole being out of subholes. In the land of the living are thought the notion of holes sacred and discreet. On the inside, holes merely small tunnels of a Tunnel. No limit to what may pass / find a way out. …

by Yuu Ikeda It will vanishas soon asI give up being free. My eyes are still looking at it.My heart is still resounding for it. It will vanishas soon asI give up accepting freedom. My skin is still wanting it.My soul is still shouting for it. Yuu Ikeda (she/they) is a Japan based poet and…

by [sarah] Cavar(After Eimear McBride (2013), A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing) Take me backwards into thatthe dark world of myself. Sidledare remove me from the light-beingsSidlequick disapprehend the body  From their quick encurdledThumbs.  Together a dreaming a world without milk, bones inventing chalices of seismic range.  Someplace where the babieselsewhere got the lie -down…

by Chris McCreary Hung from one foot tethered untilyou’ll let the blood do what it does :not so much riddle as riff, rift, begin glitchingto predict which slight might hurt worse. O merciful dagger tipped through helm’sslit just enough to flood the gutters, O eyeI’ve gouged to relieve the pressure lestI gorge or spike too…

by Jose Thomas sometimes i wonder what it would be like if you stuck a knife in my gut gored open my uterus and let my gonads hang out but you’d like that, wouldn’t you? it’s a slimy comfort: wicked, seedybitter pulp on a cut lip it stings and it is foul but for some reason tastes saccharine relentless…

by Peter Gutiérrez Once there was a killer, and the killerkilled perfectly, walking downbright hallways at night,in hospitals, and so on. Did it with a method, yousee, both undetectable and oddlyjust, walking down those sidewaysshafts, knowing the room to enter,the sickened, the failing, looking upon the killer with confused clarity:was this the ol’ corny archetype? wasthis…