High Noon @ the Holiday Inn, Omaha
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High Noon @ the Holiday Inn, Omaha by Shoshauna Shy On sale for a song in the dancewear department leotards in prim pastels with matching color-plated snaps at the crotch designed for gliding through aquamarine ponds or for executing delicate jetes Not for plunging feet first ... Read More
The Smell of Hai Karate
The Smell of Hai Karate by Amy Pence You remain faithful to the dream of the father, unmarred by age, disease, or reality. In your imagination, the door folds open, a chandelier will drop—it’s Mystery Date, but with fathers. You didn’t know how deep it went, how deep... Read More
Health Care
Health Care by Akua Lezli Hope and i suppose i should be grateful to be cared for, to be looked at in New York Hospital with my mother at 12 and black and female and was it all right to have two different nipples: one... Read More
Falling Off One’s Bedroom Slippers
Falling Off One’s Bedroom Slippers by Elizabyth Hiscox The glamour hammer of The Fifties is in full swing, as are the post-world-war-two what the bejeezus you can do that with your tongue? cocktail parties and the post-world-war-two what the bejeezus you can do that with your wife? complications alongside acres... Read More
A Brief Natural History of An Eighth Grade Girl
A Brief Natural History of An Eighth Grade Girl by Sarah Freligh The males [of many animal species]. . . continue to vie for the prize of siring offspring via the one-celled messengers of themselves they leave as a consequence of mating: their sperm.[1] Fuck is everywhere,... Read More
Training Bra, Menage a Trois, How I Lost My Virginity To Michael Cohen, The First Time I Gave Cousin Lisa an Orgasm, and Subterranean Lovesick Clues
Poems by Alexis Rhone Fancher Training Bra A rite of passage, mother says, even though I’m prepubescent and flat as Texas. The saleswoman at Bullocks Wilshire measures me across the chest, and again, just below my breasts. “30AA,” she declares. On the box it... Read More
What It Takes
What It Takes by Amy Dupcak Tenth grade: Wake up and eat Special K without milk. Listen to “November Rain” on cassette while putting on your uniform: skirt, stockings, blouse, sweater. Scrutinize your stomach in the mirror. Tweeze eyebrows, apply Urban Decay shadow, sweep hair into a ponytail,... Read More
The Day I Stopped Being Adorable
The Day I Stopped Being Adorable by Terri Carrion I stuff my cheeks with soft, buttered Cuban bread, sip Tang and ask my mother about my dimples. I’m seven and curious, but mainly fed up with strange gringas pinching my face and shrieking, “Oh, how adorable!” Particularly Mrs. Hobbs, who... Read More
