kingdom of babel

Samuel Hughes interviews
Talal Alyan


Our poetry co-editor Samuel Hughes recently had this exchange with Talal Alyan, our Issue #27 featured poet. Here’s what he had to say about political poetry, the concept of change, and the inspiration for his poetry collection Babeldom…. Read more


minimal space and more precise details

Lauren Bender interviews
Meredith Boe


Our editor in chief Lauren Bender recently had this exchange with Meredith Boe, our Issue #27 featured nonfiction author. Here’s what she had to say about the differences between writing flash and long form, her typical writing process, and how she utilizes feedback from workshops…. Read more


possibilities for sound and beauty

Patrick Brownson interviews
Thomas Benz


Our fiction co-editor Patrick Brownson recently had this exchange with Thomas Benz, our Issue #27 featured fiction author. Here’s what he had to say about his love of traditional language, his writing and revising process, and the inspiration for his story “The Waiting Moon.”… Read more


Art Issue #27

Oil on Panel

By Jane Lafarge Hamill

I rely on action and speed of hand to cut out conscious thought, the ego, to get to something more primal. They’re portraits in a sense because they’re a physical result, or really a re-playing after the fact, of interactions, both real and imagined…
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Poetry Issue #27

Manifest Destiny

By Talal Alyan

“…..grow to love that strange language”

this century

bores. its growl like

a feral beast.

I want to devour

it with silver-spoon

teeth. put sea salt

along the spinal

cord of its borders…
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Fiction Issue #27

The Waiting Moon

By Thomas Benz

Jarrett wakes with the disorienting sense that he has missed something, that there has been some lapse and he must try to figure out what’s gone wrong. Passengers are wearily lining up in the aisle, jostled by the accustomed roughness of the old rails. The street and buildings out the window are upscale, mildly forbidding and unfamiliar…
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Creative Nonfiction

Creative Nonfiction Issue #27


By Meredith Boe

The planes over this city, they fly low. Above my bed, night or day, where I’ve spent my hours lately. The rush of vibrations gets louder, then softer, louder, then softer, like waves. When they’re really low, it sounds as if the sky is ripping in half. I go to work, read, drink too much, eat, make love. And repeat. Time feels wave-like, or more a whirlpool tub I can’t climb out of….
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