A digital space feat. poetry, art, nonfiction, interviews, and reviews by marginalized creators.
i eat chocolate chips for dinner the first night i notice my clock’s stopped working and it could be a coincidence but i don’t think it is. the first night the clock stops working is the first one that i don’t have the energy to brush my teeth or set an alarm. i write a […]
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Tell us about yourself and the kind of artwork you do. My name is Višnja Mihatov Barić, I was born in Zadar but I live and work now in the capital city of Croatia, Zagreb. I graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts in Zagreb and after that I worked as a graphic designer for […]
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She tells me how in Russian, Nesting dolls are like onions, layers unraveled To reveal more layers Slowly Slowly Her mother whips the shaft of a cane on the dance studio, Splintering […]
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They say insanity is defined by doing the same thing and expecting different results. An ex once left this line in my voicemail box. This was back when we still referred to them as mailboxes. Most of my first boyfriends were poets because, well, I was also a poet. To be honest, I don’t think […]
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I wrote about the assault a year after it happened once, converted reality into a short fiction piece for a class in college & a week later, my professor, in her critique, told me that the way I’d described the act was not plausible, that it could not occur in the manner in which I […]
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When I’m with you I feel clean mother-made-your-room-clean I am a 50’s diner clean I want to throw everything out my window the bed, my speakers, books, high def televisions, to choke on the empty with you naked and crosslegged […]
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have you ever noticed that the moment before we kiss is made up of the tension before a riot? air filled with both nothingness and hope molotov lips hot and unholy and burning for attention; together we make a lit match– a real fuckin faggot– together, we burn western civilization to the ground // i […]
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long dark body wave hidden under regal mythical blood + sex /// i am a love child of punky teenage dragons + fucking serious art over the moon i wait besting key rings between knuckles / obsessive fantasy gibbous / cackling blonde wigs curled like a weapon cautiously interrupted by a charming romance […]
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i got called a “sexual vampire” once and i think he meant it as a compliment. he doesn’t know i am the worst kind of vampire the real kind, the bone kind, the steely fanged kind, doesn’t know i have power crackling from the tips of my fingers, doesn’t know i peel my skin off each night […]
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It’s a chain link all the times I told myself to dig in and forced a simpler phrase my muscles are sore and stringent and you ask me what the hell this means it’s a system of grabs and takes eventually you learn to move in tune to smaller steps. A night falls on you like […]
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Tell us a little bit about yourself. My name is Qianqian Ye, but I go by Q. I was born in China and moved to the US in 2012. I went to architecture school and graduate school. After graduation I worked as an urban designer and public art consultant. I’ve been interested in art since […]
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How easy it is to forget. You’re in the therapist’s waiting room, the hospital, the throes of a panic attack—and then you’re not. The nurse calls you in and the doctor sees you out; the darkness lifts and the sun begins to shine. These are just things that happen in passing, and reality has no […]
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In the winter with buried fists and breath held the bodies seek one another as the ice cracks open sidewalk and skull and the night stretches on past morning flesh shivers itself full. bones drawing close in the endless dark spaces warding off the chill and smoke drifts in and out of mouths a flush […]
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the shape of a sea is a shipcarrying bodies of frightened boysto where they can kiss boys without having to run into obituary posters on Lagos walls.the shape of hopeis a wooden cabin of the shipwith a windowthat reminds the boys of stories their lovers told themabout boys who wear their skin like it’s the […]
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we name every year the worst year. resolves into view an unhappy portrait: the youth in the chair still, unsmiling. brights of nursery greyed with time. was there ever happiness here? I just think of cicadas, in summer. The worst year, maybe, but: the only one they’ve got. and so they rise like lazarus into […]
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you undo me::braids and sanity cord wrap around your fists and with the snap of your fingers i am good girl::grandma fills the basin with plants uprooted from the backyard, and although i itch, she reminds me that i am home::it seems easy for you to take the galaxy on my shoulders and make it […]
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isn’t glue / that doesn’t mean I didn’t sit in his car and wonder what it would be like to love calmly / man-made chemicals burn tongues / he leaned over and licked my lips / saliva can kill Sam Frost lives in Los Angeles and spends most of her time binge drinking green […]
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Makeup makes the lie and I’m afraid of your bleach my legs/the trees open. To motivate myself I dream Kim Novak white lights in the clouds the self-control suicide note. Memory is a construct and you make it complacent say I’ll fall off the high dive break my […]
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you point your tongue at my flaws twelve glass girls slide off a shelf in my chest one for each year| I’ve committed your voice to my mind’s breath I think too much of myself & not enough of family you say loneliness is just a cold soup of wanting overturned onto the empty bed […]
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Tell us a little bit about yourself. Well, my full name is Pride Nyasha Mapfumo. I am a Zimbabwean male artist and expressionist painter whose art mainly explores the dynamic nature of love and relationships. I studied art in high school and have continued as a self taught artist. I received a degree in Architecture […]
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there’s this dream I’ve been having: a shiver of supermodels digging through my grandpa’s old stuff and telling me I’m not man enough when I wake up I put on some Kid Cudi and smoke the day away hey Mr. Rager they pump you full of parties then turn you into a constellation of mortgages, […]
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There comes a point where every small town in Pennsylvania looks the same but this one is mine: like dirt stains on the side of a row home on the end I am ubiquitous, familiar. My toes catch the dust falling through corners cracks, I am a heifer, staring wide-eyed at the sun (cows will […]
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i was born at dusk \ & some nights i still live there \ some nights \ it’s my body in the river \ & my hand reaching up to the moon \ keeping the sky together. \ but honey wants fragile, \ wants sweet. \ he wants something with its mouth wide open \ […]
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your forehead airplane angry baby naked gardener broken break up ceramics recycled trash fiction empty wine bottle the crane we didn’t know what it was allergic runny eyes questionable stain on a trench coat stolen gem ring at the gym salmonella dead deer by the side of the road that dream about that jerk boy […]
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number one soul-seller, preacher in the language of the flesh don’t take this wrong, but you’d look better with the lights off. eyes where my skin should be, rolling back to the bloodshot whites as you push your fingers into a bruise, or maybe it’s as simple as an excavation, the screaming of all the […]
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It’s monday and I eat two lemon popsicles as a start of the week meal replacement. I calculate the contents in my disordered (eating) brain and you tell me that popsicles aren’t food. When I call you mom and thank you for your concern we laugh in smiling eyes about the way we fucked the […]
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Here is what’s borrowed: We have all begun to look for something blue. The whole act is old — cowboy hat and borrowed suit, and just because your mother walks you down the aisle it doesn’t mean you’re A good guy. Old time chivalry with a hot tipped iron, welding the other with burn smack, […]
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Katie: I’ve read What Runs Over a few different ways now– straight through, with pauses, and at random, and it works every which way. The way you work with pace and temper creates this tension that holds a reader and is deeply unsettling throughout. The conversation between pieces, the movement through themes, the return to place and […]
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Marlena Chertock stunned us once before with her poems in “On that one-way trip to Mars,” and now she returns with another astronomical collection, “crumb-sized.” Familiar topics return with new flair and detail, teaching us more about blackbodies and exoplanets, and imparting more awareness on personal issues like dysplasia and queer life. One of her […]
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Tell us a little bit about yourself. I am an artist and illustrator from Scotland, UK. I have lived in a few places, but have been based in Glasgow for the past few years where I have a lovely bright studio in the West End. What kind of work do you do? My work is […]
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Shadows belonging to the people that have died inside me form part of the weight I carry around. I carry ghosts of former friends in my pocket. Look closely, I burned my tongue yesterday after spelling rejection on the skins of those I once shared quiet nights with. The life I live is simple: Build […]
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I remember used. I remember having thumbprints on my thighs // like grease-stains on a cracked screen. I remember being screen // door left unlocked in case he ever wanted to stop by // because he always wanted to come inside. I remember being cracked // dropped on linoleum floor along with a wine bottle & […]
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Let me soil my fortune on crimson-licked love & your fox face. My prayer opens rehearsed bone, you incise through the marrow & drink it, let the keyhole ritual eat me whole. Not that I like it, I just want to remember what it’s like with your fingers slipping […]
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a study: mid-bloom half-rot, my name has traveled so long to find me. a […]
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for my grandfather Rooftop shingles concatenate across the valley like fractal canopy, like RGB pixels blooming over the dusky night. In one rendering of my memory, Taipei is a city stalled on the threshold of morning, recursive function paused on the nth iteration of the scripting of this city that I love, suspended until the […]
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december 4, 2016: i am smoking, my lungs are leaking and my breaths are slowing and i may have taken pills but not without liquor / never with liquor. our breaths clash, like death’s cigarettes. it’s a smart kind-of self-harm. or at least that’s what i used to think. decay and destruction begin to rot […]
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When I was fourteen a blonde boy took me into a field and tried to fuck me in a hedge. It wasn’t a a suitable hedge; there were brambles everywhere. They poked at my skin, clawed at me like the boy who clawed his way up my legs. I lay there, semi-exposed in an English […]
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You work in so many different mediums. Do you have a favorite that you focus on more than others? Honestly, I can’t choose a favorite. I think different fragments — memories, emotions, ideas — demand different forms of representation. I enjoy allowing myself the freedom to play with as many different mediums as I […]
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I think of a number I subtract my siblings from it and divide the difference by father’s absence Convert this into an equation Three times the number is the same as when dust is added to it Take a face into your hands and add it to tomorrow growing in your marrows Approximate your heartbeat […]
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– and nights trying to reclaim the missing years in every swollen mouth and damp split of skin that stutters across my vision my soiled patch of south texas bed sheet my ugly sutured lip that still stings like the first time every time whenever I taste something oiled and sharp like a catalogue of […]
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i can’t write a love poem. awful way to start, like the machinations of our hearts beating in tandem. yours larger than your baby fist & infinitely stronger. i have always learned through abstaining. but i’m hungry. I wanna strip you down to your bones breakable and pale. I’m moonsick. you rise east. thump, thump, […]
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At the Laundromat the cycles wash out Angel instincts from the yellowed armpits Of your t-shirts to exist as you were given Is the kind of dullness a body gets Submerged under ice for a thousand years Until dragged out, placed under operating Lights to only get a chance at ugliness Our hulks have been […]
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the family as an olive tree: something living, something ugly. an old gnarled thing with deep veins, honey-like sap. the family as something too fond of close embraces. the family as something too close to embrace. the family as something with ugly leaves and green-black things hanging from its boughs. not flowers. not berries. fruits, […]
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you hear laurel I hear yanny you hear vinyl I hear caliper you hear sodom I hear I hate your best friend more than you hate my best friend you hear breeding ground I hear dumbell you hear sodden I hear danube you hear liminal I hear plug it you hear pencil I hear number hell you hear […]
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My ancestors never came close to the city. Their graves are on coastlines and in open fields, their last breaths were not in flats but in the mountains and out on the open sea. The first of my family to die here was my father, a man who longed for the country, where he […]
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• There is uproar at the back// of this poem //which = i am a roaring chariot//= there is a tragedy// in this prologue // •• This story begins from a place of bloodlustgave my body to a butterfly or she gave// her body to me// an agreement sparkled with a matchstick// affection first prayed […]
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Time and its contradictions. Wasted time. Its dreaded passing. How can I use or save it more efficiently? Time preservationist. The soft rotted time of forest floors. Photographs and boxes of mementos. Everything is time-sensitive. I am time sensitive. One night during the first few weeks of my current relationship our watches sat side by […]
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Emily Rose Lavrador December 24th We would wait to put up stockings Until all cake had been eaten Because it was her birthday first I would kneel on scraped knees And hear my cousin talk of color, strength, volume Peel up the skin of his wiser words and drape the film over the cantankerous crab […]
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bass boomin shhhhhrrrrrrttt soft tires on pavement chhht, a layered clap & snare from behind me breaths of a nigga behind me, getting closer exhaling to my right off footsteps in the grass & dirt, & one sharp scuff from me sidestepping a stroller steel lock & chain aluminum fencing soft screechin the pressure of […]
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you are always searching for yourself in every reflective surface. now turn and face it. the absence of what you haunted, late at night when you hoped he slept like a petal, a cast off shade moved from room to room. running your hand over every door. you want to be a blessing but you’ve […]
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