Three Poems | by Emily Paskevics

Lovers at the Table

You’re coarser than I expected. Thick-
skinned, bristly, almost scaled.
You told me to be contrary
& untamed,

so I’ve practiced by screaming.
My voice has changed, rough-edged
& more brutal. There’s
something ugly

in my belly
that you can’t quite kill—
I don’t know its name, but it’s shaped
like a four-legged animal Continue reading “Three Poems | by Emily Paskevics”

Two Poems | by Carrie Laski


came home early to throw up the mice in my stomach
and wash the hairs down the sink
I’m not what you thought I would be
I’m not
the same in the half-dark
lighting fires at the Narva Gate
stuffing diamonds into my bodice
for protection
it’s so fucking nice outside and still
there are splinters in my veins
carnivorous blooms
stare me down while I wait
so patient it scares me
wicked sorry
I’ve turned you into a mythical creature
sun sign of december
hope you’re
doing ok Continue reading “Two Poems | by Carrie Laski”

Anne Reveals the A’s to Z’s at Bellevue | by Alyssa Yankwitt


Anne betrayed coincidence,
(death exists
for good-hearted individuals)
just kept lusting,
made negative, open

promises quite righteously;
stood tall under Valentine’s watch;
X-factors you’ve zoned. Continue reading “Anne Reveals the A’s to Z’s at Bellevue | by Alyssa Yankwitt”

One Story, One Poem | by Carl Gercar


      It was fairly torn already when I got it. I dusted it off and ran my fingers along the shreds poking out from the aorta. It kicked back, weak and barely regular, a sweet heartbeat. It was felt, and the pulmonaries were cheap velvet, but it would work. I needed function, not luxury. How much? I asked the shopkeep and he said eight dollars. I argued down to five, paid him and left. Walking down the road, the thing in my pocket, caressing it with two fingers like a lover’s palm, I was so excited it blistered my skin. I usually saw people looking at me, noticing my gait or the shift to my eyes and recognizing dissimilarity, but today there were none. I was one of them, or on my way to it. They must have known.
Continue reading “One Story, One Poem | by Carl Gercar”

A L I E N | by Ali Raz

Someone’s blowing a leaf blower. On and on for hours. The sound drives me out of my mind.


A few blocks down, the construction crew has blocked the whole street. They’re setting up new traffic signals. A bunch of men in crane-like things. I stand on the sidewalk, in the sun and noise, watching the work. I eat a tub of popcorn as I watch.


It’s not my fault. I’ve been hungry for a while now. A long, long time. The freezer has been full to capacity – for months – but I can’t bring myself to open it. Not a failure of nerve! It’s just that I like thinking about it, full as it is, the organs lolling inside it, tongue over toe over eye, over kidney, over spleen, over kidney again, there were many of those, a much confused mess.


I buy icicles. I eat these in the sun. I love it when the sugar drips on the sidewalk.


Don’t look at me like that. Continue reading “A L I E N | by Ali Raz”

Three Poems | by Matthew Johnson

Big Apple Blues

Consider me
Like a heartbreak, or a montage,
As you pass me by, and refuse to see me
In the market streets, or on the subway.

I’m new here,
And New York is killing me too;
There’s not a soul willing to call my name,
Or to even accidentally stub my toe on. Continue reading “Three Poems | by Matthew Johnson”