Book Banning: a win for the team
RWA files for bankruptcy
Nobel laureate Alice Munro has died
The book sale of your dreams
3 book marketing misconceptions
Beer For Breakfast

Beer For Breakfast

by David Salner
The chrome-colored clouds / pushed the heat down, held in the car fumes, / the smell of the asphalt. Out on the patio, / I was ready for work
Maternity Leave

Maternity Leave

by Lauren Yates
There is something about traveling home that stops the blood. / My womb becomes a howling dog warning me of danger.
A Quintuple

A Quintuple

by Simon Perchik
Here, there, the way silence / tows you below the waterline / and though you are alone / you’re not sure where her name / is floating on the surface / or what’s left
River Mouth

River Mouth

by Heather Dobbins
She hasn’t taken off her swimsuit all summer. She is two hands / across her middle. I know that from throwing her: one foot / on my thigh, the other in my palm. Up, over, splash.
Proctoring

Proctoring

by Michael Lauchlan
Among students, I drink the same / coffee I drank at home an hour / ago—which is not some philosophical metaphor.
Sefeed

Sefeed

by Mathew Javidi
If I could go back, / I would have clutched my tongue, / not let it pirouette into / the soft, dim spotlight of / your living room
Monastery

Monastery

by Alicia Lai
Once I entered into a symbiotic relationship with a praying mantis, wings folded / at our altar of Queen Anne’s lace. There is wine on the table—father, please don’t / let the calf bleed on me.
Dark Rum & Tonic

Dark Rum & Tonic

by Molly Fisk
Sometimes what you need is a road / house, blast of laughter and warm air pouring / out the door, where the waitresses know / your name but the customers don’t
A Capitalist Back to Nature

A Capitalist Back to Nature

by Robert S. King
Here is the last forest that has never / heard the crisp snap of a dollar / or a siren louder than a crow. / Here the wind does not honor / the borders of a deed.
Five by Perchik

Five by Perchik

by Simon Perchik
This dirt still mimics sweat / lies down alongside, unsure / your lips would quiet it / though the finger that is familiar / probably is yours –could be enough
It all began around a campfire…

Beautiful language

is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.

Contributor Spotlight:

Arena Glow

by Angela Chaidez Vincent

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Open Contests

by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review