Wesely Cover

 

Dear Neighbor, by Alan Chazaro

Dear Neighbor, it’s no wonder we drive spaceships and eat inside caves around here. Yesterday, a teenager confessed to seeing his first murder. Said the car pulled up his block and smoked a dude quicker than his Black & Mild. I don’t know why he told me this, standing at the bus stop but now […]Read More

The Educator by Sarah Melton

An MFA right after undergrad and straight into a paid position. Not bad, right? But you won’t find my book in the storefront. No Pulitzer, not even a “Joel’s staff pick” sticker thrown on the cover. When I was hired I fantasized about National Book Prizes and intimate literary gatherings at George Saunders’ house. I […]Read More

Crow’s Eponymous by John Oliver Simon

Crow’s Eponymous Crow’s eponymous caw’s caught raw in my craw. Tell me something I don’t know, crow. Something rhymes with nothing, nothing rhymes with orange. Your range includes my backyard, you’ve made that crystal-clear: The air embroils your articulate passage galaxies hook tentacles to dosey-do sidewalk and street run outward to morning white spaces, uncharted, […]Read More

First Down by Christina Gardner

Brett Llewellyn comes to mind. On a clouded day, Brett Llewellyn stood on the field in the schoolyard. He was a freckled lanky boy with a conservative cut of red hair. He cradled a football, helmet-less. After a whistle, his red hair jostled as he dipped, faked left, and ran. He wore no team uniform—a […]Read More

Through with that by Kaitlyn Duling

Through with that She says she dumped him just like this, her back upright in the chair. The chair against her shoulder blades. The chair wooden. Its arms wooden. Outside, the door of the U-Haul pushed up, he watched its mouth slam open with less noise than one might expect. Her, silent and in the […]Read More

Driver Training Days by John Laue

I       What was I doing sitting in a car careening from lane to lane of the Golden Gate Bridge, my heart in my throat, while Mrs. Cerf, my driving student, freaked out? Maybe I’m not cut out for this kind of drama, I thought. Maybe I should have turned down the job.          I’d had to […]Read More

Ode to Rob's Closet by Abe Becker

Ode to Rob’s Closet It’s not that the job market for White Ethnic Studies majors was hit particularly hard when I graduated. It just felt like it. Rotting in the privilege I learned about. Lost in the tiny matrix of my dad’s couch. The chicken-shit son come home to roost all over his earned retirement […]Read More

THINGS WE SHOULD’VE SAID by Angie Walls

It’s October, but I have no idea what day it is. I am still a ghost of myself. The sky is hopelessly black, with only a couple dim streetlights to shine the stairway up the hill to Lo Coco’s, where I’m meeting Pete. I find myself stumbling on the way to the restaurant, the one […]Read More

October 30th by Claire Scott

OCTOBER 30TH he steps into a crosswalk carefully checking the light is green again swinging a tennis racquet hop-skipping across eager to meet his friends or cane click-clacking as his twisted body step- stutters across the street again a car turns left sunblind? texting? his body thrown again sirens blaring bruises swelling blood seeping through […]Read More

Escape Velocity by Rebecca Chekouras

I couldn’t let my husband know I was driving. One week from my due date, big as a manatee, I sped through San Francisco hoping to get home before he found out, but the closer I got to our apartment in The Mission, the more new construction choked the streets. In the few hours I’d […]Read More

Instantaneous by Carol Dorf

Instantaneous The curve’s tangents define velocity. No one tells a pregnant woman what labor or the first months will be like; that our velocity is not continuous. The body demands the chemical compounds of pleasure. As a child before gender, I desired flight, space, rockets. Later all my theories shrunk into a particular moment.   […]Read More

SuperChad by Alan Good

  I was irrumating a blow-up doll when the phone rang. I let it ring, or ding, or radiate, which was the name of the ringtone. If I didn’t finish I was going to smash a building or hurl a car into space. I get that way. We all do. A blow-up doll. How pathetic, […]Read More