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INTERVIEW An Interview with Raphael Kadushin by Kari Kamin
BOOK REVIEW The Avian Gospels by Adam Novy
FLASH FICTION The Way You Move Twelve Minutes From Home by Stefanie Freele The Abstraction Pool by M. Thomas Gammarino Night Shift by Sarah Gerard Still Life with Mo by William T. Vandemark
SHORT STORIES Three Wives by Gary Moshimer
NOVEL EXCERPTS White Blood by Bob Thurber
STRETCHING FORMS Standard Service Contract: Final Notification and Escort by Tim Bass Gmail – Inbox – richard.lee@gmail.com by Erik Doughty
POETRY Two Poems by Kenneth P. Gurney Two Poems by Derek N. Otsuji Traveling Incognito by
» Continue reading May 2011 Issue…
Short Flight / Long Drive Books, 2010 Book I: 278 pp. Book II: 184 pp.
Review by Tobias Carroll
On the desktop before me as I set out to write this review are two volumes: specifically, the two parts of Adam Novy’s The Avian Gospels. The designs are complementary: on one appears the title, Novy’s name, and about twenty birds; on the other, the birds have increased in number and, grouped together, resemble a particularly sinister cloud. That’ll be the last time I refer to the two books separately: for all intents and purposes, this is one long novel divided
» Continue reading The Avian Gospels by Adam Novy…
An excerpt from Paperboy: A Dysfunctional Novel.
I’m not a brainless idiot, but what does any kid know about anything? No one ever told me about the birds and the bees, so back when I was thirteen, I knew less than anyone. After four months of rubbing myself two or three times a day, something terrible happened. Instead of a dry shudder and a warm tickle, I squirted white pus all over my belly and it scared the holy shit out of me. Every bone and muscle in my body was shaking and I could feel my heart banging
» Continue reading White Blood by Bob Thurber…
The heart attack felt like the time Alison stabbed me with knitting needles. It made me want to see her. She was the fun wife, the first of three.
I was morbid and full of regret — my drinking had driven them away, no kids in the wake. I decided to visit all of them, in reverse order.
I showed up at Jane’s door on a Monday morning. Luckily her husband still worked.
“What do you want?” She opened the door a crack. Her eye was violet, nestled in fat, moving backwards into her.
“I had a heart attack. A
» Continue reading Three Wives by Gary Moshimer…
Kari Kamin: We know you are an editor with the University of Wisconsin Press, but will you share what your job entails?
Raphael Kadushin: What I am is the acquisitions editor. I am responsible for finding manuscripts that I think are a good fit for us, signing them. Signing the authors and then working on sort of developing the manuscripts if I feel they need some work. Then there is another editor; they are called manuscript editors, who are in charge of line editing. I don’t do any of that. They are in charge of line editing, copyediting. Then there
» Continue reading An Interview with Raphael Kadushin by Kari Kamin…
They tell me it is not entirely unlike the intensity of breaking crème brulee—a quarter-second of guilt, desire, both
because the cauterized top will bend to you, and because you destroy something whole. And I think: they have not
visited your grave, if they use dessert as a way to grasp what you did. If they had felt with their knees the living
grass, they’d know it is not entirely unlike anything, would be lost in the words, as we’re meant to be, in this language
we created. This labyrinth we escape into when words to ask for
» Continue reading Dear Fred: A Letter by Jessica Young…
It is the knife edge of Halloween and you will leave tomorrow. The chill of this coast invades your joints like mold, fills your lungs with moss.
Your suitcase sways on the porch swing. Even the house seems to list, as if it were built of driftwood instead of deadwood.
We have a daughter in college and a mortgage. Your body can no longer work. All night, I hold you like dead leaves in my fists until the moon gives up on the last breath of yesterday held in my lungs.
You say your return is as reliable as the
» Continue reading A Reuniting by Steve Williams…
Listen to a reading of “Getting the Beast Out” by Lucy Simpson.
my tumorous gland call her Echidna soft lumpy cold hairy beast she is sitting in a lab carved tissue thin under glass slides I don’t miss my little beast she used to growl at night as she curled into herself her spines flattening against my soft skin she’s not the mother of monsters she’s an unwanted child of my body she’s under microscopes pieces of her pink as petals
please say something kind before you turn out the light
Lucy Simpson
About the author:
Lucy Simpson lives in
» Continue reading Getting the Beast Out by Lucy Simpson…
Listen to a reading of “Traveling Incognito” by Justin Rousse.
If I surprise you, it won’t be on a Sunday. It will be on a Monday when our blue laundered lives yield to free space in overcrowded closets, and we discover a gossamer possibility spun across a wire hanger from the light at the back of the mind. Everything else will darken, and the starched white collars of familiarity will melt, and we’ll pack everything we’ve intended to look at for years and years, at last finding room in a small traveling bag. It won’t be easy to forsake all
» Continue reading Traveling Incognito by Justin Rousse…
Leaving a little lather in my hair, I stare at a bowl of Cheerios, life preservers lapping against the gunwales, until they sink and disappear.
About the author:
Alexander Stachniak is a Chicago poet whose work has appeared in Future Cycle Poetry, The Driftwood Review, and The Medulla Review. Alexander is a co-assistant editor and copyeditor for Ghost Ocean Magazine, which publishes poetry and flash fiction. A suitable present for Alexander’s birthday, which you missed (shame on you), would be an avocado.
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