I was all need you were out dog licking wound & ok/ so I’m destroyer all pressure pace move right through mouth & more do you swoon over Camus or coke & cum turn home melted ponder under slither fingers fighting fodder what kind of blood am I to you with war zipping hard underneath
Read moreBLOOM by KRISTIN CHANG
I touch myself like a wound & my skin spits up its color like blood. It’s beautiful to feel darkness unattended in the body. To love the backs of our hands, to forget what will end us. I bruise the underside of my tongue
Read moreATROPA BELLADONNA by SYDNEY MCNEILL
black leather boots kick fine soil down from a cliff-side perch – disperses into an ill-coloured cloud, the way my brain feels.
Read moreBLOOM by ABBY CARON
Feminism is a really big part of who I am, so I love to incorporate that into my work by making it very much based on strong women. Art and creativity are the most important parts of my life, and I think that more emphasis on the arts is needed across the world and in […]
Read moreGROWTH by ABBY CARON
I’m constantly being inspired by color and nature. I love how certain colors interact with each other to create for some really interesting effects visually, and I think that color is the single biggest part in my work. If the colors don’t work, then I don’t feel that my art works at all. There’s not […]
Read moreIN THE DEAD OF SPRING by KRISTIN CHANG
A white boy holds his hand like a gun. The earth bleeds out its rivers, I fist a flower. Don’t let them say genesis. Don’t let them say born again. Show me a hunger that names itself and I’ll show you my mouth,
Read moreBETWEEN CULTURE AND AMERICA by FRANKIE CONCEPCION
My friend Phoebe is the first person I ever heard say the word ‘feminist’ in real life. “You know,” she had said, “I think the feminists really ruined it for us women.” It was the first time I had encountered the word outside a YouTube video, or a Tumblr post—my peepholes into American culture in […]
Read moreOKAY, YOU ARE ART by SAMANTHA PEREZ
We met in class. I sat next to her and rested a forearm on the desk, watching her draw a pair of eyes. She looked up. “Can I draw yours?” I wore my hair pulled back into a ponytail, a t-shirt with sleeves that went to my elbows and a bare face; Mallory had black […]
Read moreSLIGHTLY AHEAD OF ITS TIME by SARA ADAMS
FINAL SPRING by SARA ADAMS
ANXIOUS DIVA by HANNAH KUCHARZAK
Anxious Diva puts me up for ransom. I ask her why I can’t feel my body. She just wanted to smell the cake up close. Who can blame her? Herself orbitless, disappeared? Dress sagging below the knees. Miss Charity wearing a ski mask, no panties.
Read moreFALSE TEETH by VANESSA WILLOUGHBY
Even if I run out of water I can still waste light years plotting our ruin with pruning shears. We being beings who shed our skin daily Sometimes during the violet hour to dine On paint thinner and praise temporary faces.
Read moreTWENTY-FIRST by AMY LAUREN JONES
On the picnic blanket under the oak tree my father turned to me and said: “We hope you always come back here,” where the shade eases the Southern sun on our pale skin, where we sit in favor, and I felt this birthday’s finite weight: the ratio of lie to light, and the brevity of […]
Read moreREQUIEM FOR THE MASSES BY RISHIKA AGGARWAL
hair spilling / like crowfeathered blood / razor hums wiping away / ink-scared wrists and mama says / no more girl / no more woman i wake, and she is hanging by the ceiling fan / again. bloodless girl ripping/rippling apart / like still water breaking.
Read moreMALNOURISHED by JACKIE BRAJE
He says things the way spilled milk does, calcium cutting and bone dry, so I cry about it. We stand outside a Mexican diner and an Open sign’s screaming red and blue all over his face as he tells me he needs something more. My
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VAGABOND CITY 