Issue #61

Enter an issue featuring a myriad of voices and stories. The journey through the mud may be difficult, but it is a necessary one.

Mud season has arrived, and with it comes the rush of water and blurred lines of a landscape once familiar. In the works sent during our last submission period, borders have become both increasingly defined and blurred. Creating a global consciousness redefining what it means to be human, the images and themes presented in this issue’s art and writing are unwilling to look away.

This issue’s poetry portfolio offers pieces by Christian Hanz Lozada. “Thin throats crush easily / and there’s nothing thinner / than a voice in a flood,” they write halfway through the first poem, “Breathing America.” With heartbreaking honesty, these poems present an intimate look into life across socioeconomic boundaries.

In Elena Sichrovky’s experimental story “did it hurt when you fell,” experimentation lies within the piece’s soul. Written in second person, this is a story laced with intricate but tender details. “The circle of their stares whisper at each other and you can hear it all. They don’t understand; they don’t know what he is,” says Sichrovky’s narrator, the only one who seems to understand.

Within the narrative of “Snake Bits,” Karen Beatty traverses the lines between serpent and microbe, mountain and farm, language and meaning. Immersed in a mythology of nature, we become woven together then broken apart with images of poisonous vipers, sacred temples, and, if we’re lucky, good fortune. As Beatty writes, “You know they’re there.”

Peace to you all —
Rebecca & Ashley