Creative
Nonfiction
June Contributors
Bright Aboagye, Pete Bertlessen, David Capps, Sara Caskey, Kristen Field, Natalie Marino, Gail Andromeda Vanhart, and Melody Wordworker
May Highlights
the weakest link
by Meg Bloom Glasser
“I cut my mother off until she swallows a handful of pills and ends up in the psychiatric ward. My brother pressures me to visit her there. She wants California rolls and tweezers for her ingrown hairs.”
soft-edged stars
by Seth Frame
“My vision is perfect now, surgically corrected, but I sometimes miss the blur. There was truth in it: the way the world softened, the way beauty didn't need to be sharp to be real.”
me, myself and murderers (how i lived with two people who went on to kill)
by Julie Duck
“…my need to rescue others was leading me straight into the arms of danger, twice putting me under the same roof as future murderers.”
master list of love lost objects
by Darci Schummer
“I saw myself through your camera’s eye, felt again that acute density between us, and I catalogued everything that had vanished with you.”
the thin frequency
by Mohsen Askari
“He thought of rhythm again—not productivity, not ambition, not even discipline, but rhythm. That elusive alignment between the inner world and the outer one.”
three micros
by Christopher Locke
“A stairwell rises infinite as people stumble through smoke, a dark crush of firefighters splits the surge of jackets and ties; a barefoot woman appears in a green dress on fire.”
frankenstein
by Christie Page
“I don’t give a damn about feminist think-pieces claiming breasts don’t define womanhood. I don’t want to hear about empowerment, or how we’re supposed to transcend our bodies. I care about my truth.”
freedom with an asterisk
by Lamont Neal
“Their freedom came with caveats, legal, social, spiritual. They were the early recipients of discrimination in housing, employment, and marriage. The canaries in the coal mine. You have your freedom, now can you have your dignity?”
things you’re not googling this morning
by Justine Sweeney
“5.43am: How to talk to children about... Instead look up a recipe for muffins, check you’ve got the ingredients in and get cooking before the kids wake up.”
the mystery hole
by Lydia Hyslop
“The last time I saw her, she was still living at home, every inch of her countertops cluttered, the air stale with the scent of grocery store fried chicken and ancient ashtrays.”
when my father hugs me
by Chel Campbell
“He admits he was young once and did things young men do—and the betta fish is still in that concrete basement, in that old house, circling his aquarium.”
broke
by Johannah Simon
“I keep my damn mouth shut. I can’t afford the truth. Talk isn’t cheap, its expensive AF. And I’m broke.”
foxes
by Emma Atkins
“you catch sight of two black eyes – a quick slip of orange. The fox cub winks at you and ducks through a gap in the hedge. Fuck you, universe.”
drunken meditations on taking it too far, or a degenerate mysticism of immanence
by Hirço Orsetti
“At the worst of it, I begged vague deities for a few more years. I wanted to rub up against death’s leg like a slutty cat begging for detrital scraps.”
exhumation
by Sally Huggins Toner
“Tombstones cover nothing but the earth and the carbon underneath that feeds the leaves of next year’s trees. Tombstones cover lies and the truth. We don't know exactly where she lies.”
nipple me this
by Patrick Johnston
“A king cannot provide succour to his people without nipples. A king cannot rule with nipples…Well. Nipple me this… what the fuck was he doing with nipples in the first place?”
are you okay?
by Holly Carignan
“We saw ass cracks and bare dicks, cleaned shit smeared on bathroom walls. We all laughed and sighed our exasperations, told our stories.”
lakeside
by Zary Fekete
“I think of that old feeling under the lake, of weeds around my ankle, of being pulled up into light. Maybe love isn’t about rescue after all. Maybe it’s about staying close enough to reach if they call.”
the sound of one bowl’s emptiness
by Reg Darling
“What lingers in memory for me, beyond the scarification of grief, is “My bowl is empty! My bowl is empty!” Was that not poetry? Was that not art?”
salvador dall-e can’t draw hands
by Isaac Russo
“Mankind may dream of Icarus until the wax is running down our backs, but a god with paper wings will always fall.”