issue 03 - suspended.
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The fronds go a little black at the edges
Just leave Emil Ottoman under the dying palms of ‘Floridecay’
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I guess we'll all stand around like we're doing something.
Tyler Peterson explores humanity’s worst source of awkwardness in ‘My Neighbor Jim Who Died in the Rafters’
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Guess what everyone?
DT ROBBINS QUIT HIS F**KING JOB! GO READ ‘QUITTING’!
🖤this issue dedicated to Evelyn Milquetoast, aka Sarah Sottile. we miss you, Bear.🖤
to help Sarah’s mom with funeral expenses, please click 🖤here 🖤. thanks for considering.
Floridecay
fiction by Emil Ottoman
Fiction in the Mouth of the Rat.
‘Boca Raton means Mouth of The Rat, get told. Mercedes in the mouth of the rat. The Mouth Of The Rat Country Club.’
gloves
poetry by Singer Joy
Featuring music by Verführervergelter.
‘touching their skin i wear my gloves.’
My Neighbor Jim Who Died in the Rafters
fiction by Tyler Peterson
Are you sure I don’t need some kind of qualifications for this?
‘I’ve always been a compulsive volunteer and I was happy to be of help in this trying time in Jim’s life, so to speak.’
Free Ribs
poetry by DC Klein
You’re giving them away?
‘maybe it was the way I stood/
under the shade of a parking lot tree/
staring off in the distance/’
Rebirth
fiction by Genevieve Jagger
Where did she get such an ugly piece of lingerie?
‘She was staring at his Tarantino poster.’
Quitting
flash fiction by DT Robbins
Take that, you piece of shit middle manager!
‘Been talking about it for months, years, decades, since the dawn of time.’
Whoever Called It A (Phantom Limb)
fiction by Matthew Chabe
Down into the void.
‘Adam Levine is too loud, and all I can think is holy shit I am going to die in this fucking Camaro and this is it, it really is it.’
Her Dog Died Today
poetry by Eric DePriester
What do you say at a time like this?
‘might ring intrusive’
Hush, Moan
fiction by Zoe Adrien
Quiet in the chapel.
‘Who could ever understand those mythical pagan creatures, those girls?’
hospital mashed potatoes
poetry by nat raum
There’s just something about potatoes.
‘sometime between noon and one, i am spooning/
potatoes out of a waxed paper bowl.’
Brainworms
fiction by Samir Sirk Morató
There are too many of you now.
‘You ate cereal with bone shards raining from your mouth and gray matter dripping onto your shirt.’
Guest Opinion:
We must take action regarding the
[REDACTED] High School janitor
flash fiction by Daniel DeRock
Surely you agree something must be done.
‘The following text was found inscribed on the shell of a dying oversized turtle on [REDACTED] Beach during the most recent appearance of the beach.’
Ceaseless Humiliation
fiction by HypIreStition
A day in the life of The Man.
‘A thousand years of identity and struggle, left with nowt to struggle against. An identity that had vanished, a language that didn’t exist.’
Sick Boy Meets Cute Boy
poetry by Egbiameje Omole
An open mouth and a sickness meet at a party.
‘Now, what do you have to give? /
& Sick Boy replies, without saying: /
I have nothing to give.’
Pop Rocks
blackout poetry by Charles J March III
✨✨
‘The patient also is prescribed “crazy dreams” Ambien.’
His Heart, Forever Frozen (2013)
fiction by Spencer Nitkey
If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.
‘The dance of shining copper overlays and gilds the once-beating heart. The strings armor and freeze the motion that once made Isaac alive.’
Anatomical Copyright
poetry by Ellen Harrold
Can you copyright a cell?
‘Oh, do oxygen bubbles sew themselves/
through those anatomic caverns’
punctum (o baked alaska for you i am a former american)
fiction by perfect kiss strickoll
Perfection graces the silver screen.
‘Damen und Herren, we’ve done it, by God, come closer, Uwe—show us that pretty face.’
HOW TO DESIRE WITHOUT A LIBIDO
poetry by Vi Khi Nao
I’ll braid us together.
‘One cannot give love to a person/
With a heartbeat/
That love will deteriorate with false dream’
Friends of the Mag
this issue made possible by the financial support of:
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H. is a recurring donor and therefore it’s my job as EIC to offer to do any annoying chores they want done. H., if your dog needs walking or I can buy you a to-go latte just let me know, ok?
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I was gonna publish J but his work got snapped up before I could, and then he donated to the mag. Please submit to us again, J, I’m begging.
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Sasha’s work has appeared in the bodyfluids newsletter, as well as Old Moon, Pithead Chapel, F&SF, and others. Find him on twitter @DantonSix.
Dude, you gotta stop giving us stuff for free. (Never stop, ilu) -
You’re the best, man. Get a story ready for us, post-haste.
