Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

MATRYOSHKA by JEFFREY ZOU

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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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

GASLIGHT by CHRISTIAN J. COLLIER

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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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

AMERICAN ROT by DANIEL TOBIN

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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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

REVOLUTIONARY LOVE by OLEANDER VENZON

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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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

JAZZ by SARA MATSON

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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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

VAMPIRE by MAYA MALDONADO

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 […]

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Everything, Issue 35, Poetry

STRAIN by SALLIE FULLERTON

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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Art, Everything, interview, Issue 33

MERYL D’SA interviews PRIDE NYASHA

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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Everything, Issue 33, Poetry

MAUSOLEUM by JUSTIN KARCHER

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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Everything, Issue 33, Poetry

MILLERSVILLE by GABRIELLE MARTIN

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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Everything, Issue 33, Poetry

HONEY by YVES OLADE

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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Everything, Issue 33, Poetry

BREAKFAST POPSICLES by MAIA KACHAN

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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Everything, Issue 33, Poetry

HONEYMOON RANCH by ZOE KURLAND

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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Everything, Issue 32, Poetry

FUCKBOI PHRASES by MARISA ADAME

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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Everything, Issue 32, Poetry

ETHER by EMILY YIN

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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Everything, Issue 32, Poetry

PARALLELS/DEC by ABIGAIL MAY-DEVHANI

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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Everything, Issue 32, Poetry

HALF RIGHT by FREYJA JONES

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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Creative Nonfiction, Everything, Issue 30

CALENDARS by ELIZABETH THERIOT

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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Art, Everything, Issue 29

VAGABOND CITY interviews ALYSSA MOORE

Where are you from? Columbus, OH What are your hobbies? I’m usually creating something, photography, dance, and I’m always up for trying something new! What kind of dance have you done? I did Jazz and lyrical in high school and then I choreographed in an organization called Ayo at Cedarville University. When did you start […]

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Everything, Issue 29, Poetry

THE LEVITY OF TRUTH by GRACE LAU

There really is no good time to tell your mother you’ve never liked boys. Closets do not relinquish their grips easily but I have always instinctively hated dresses. So when my mother asked me about boyfriends      again as we wrenched the tails from luscious prawns and cracked their shells with our teeth, I offered the […]

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Everything, Issue 29, Poetry

CADENCE by DANIELLE ELEANOR

your name tastes like the ocean in my mouth the highest arch of green smoothed by sun then            white foam fizzing out snapping bubbles kiss my ankles you go on for miles if I think about you and nothing else I can taste you whenever I want my lungs   s […]

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Everything, Issue 29, Poetry

I’M PAINTING A HATRED OF YOU by ARIELLE TIPA

my twin, my twitch – prettily you demonstrate your lazy eye the rococo latticework of your scapula – you are most beautiful in braille my hammock, my summer my opium glitch, my tambourine din i’ve been cat-tongued in places you have never lived in tantrums you have never nursed you are killing me to death […]

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Everything, Issue 29, Poetry

LEAVING THE LIGHTS ON by LIZ BRUNO

Sometimes I suspect I am nothing but a hotel. My mother stays in my lips. My father sleeps in my eyes. My last lover stumbles around With my flowery bathrobe flung on. Yes, there are guests lurking In every floor of this high rise, Even the uninvited ones. My ex-husband twists around my intestines. His […]

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Everything, Issue 29, Poetry

AUGUST by SARAH M. ZHOU

August presses against me like something thick and heavy, sweet perfume clinging to air swollen with humidity. Thunder roiling in clouds like wet wool, apricots ripening and rotting in a blue bowl on the kitchen counter. A shimmering haze, thick enough to taste like herbs on your tongue, with bones weighty and bruised like thudding […]

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Everything, Issue 28, Poetry

NORTH CAROLINA 1998 by CHESTINA CRAIG

I have these memories my mother & I bleary eyed in your southern kitchen, the cicadas chorus as you offer us toast waking us jet-lagged already dressed in your coffin, that bathrobe. I don’t know if it was really there then but I dress you in it every time you are alive in my head […]

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Everything, Prose

EDITORS on EGGS

This is an apology. I’ve been throwing my hair over my shoulders for too long. Sometimes, I remember how to be still. I’ve tried, but I don’t know how to talk about her. Last summer, my nails were short and I spoke to people about who she was. The backyard of my parent’s home and […]

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