Freedom is shriveling and consciousness has been assassinated by Phạm Vũ Văn Khoa , trans. Kaitlin Rees

“Freedom is shriveling and consciousness has been assassinated” first appeared in bilingual magazine AJAR issue 2, which is published in Hanoi. A few changes have been made from the original publication. Tự do… Continue reading

Ridden — Jason Marc Harris

“Memory is another name for ghosts and their awful hunger.” — from “Apple” by Eugene Gloria   It was Hmong New Year. Phang was thirteen-years-old, and Grandfather Zaj told his stories to the… Continue reading


ARTIST STATEMENT I often think about the fragility of the body and how it relates to memory, my own as well as in a broader context. I am interested in exploring memory and… Continue reading

PLOW — Wendell Mayo

After teaching my morning section of first-year composition, I give my tally to Professor Gertrude Montbatten: NINE students owning up to misused possessives, EIGHT run-ons consecutively colliding in zany train wrecks, and SEVEN… Continue reading

2 poems — Sandra Kohler

MINDFUL Tuesday. Gray Tuesday. The day of which one must be mindful is always Tuesday, a day of no particular meaning, its minimal taste offered, water to the tongue, like the drink you… Continue reading

2 poems — Jonathan Travelstead

ADDICTION TRACT Because children’s coloring books teach us to find What is Missing from one of two similar pictures, I consider what was never there: Tonguing the molar whose pith- porous as a… Continue reading

landscapes & nudes — Mark Loebach

  Click on Images to Enlarge. Mark Loebach spent years traveling through Europe and the United States gaining perspective and using art as therapy. The years of constant change are represented in his… Continue reading


That year for Christmas, their fifteen-year-old son asked for a magic kit. But neither parent thought this was a good idea. Brandon was too old for such a toy. The dad was embarrassed… Continue reading


Why do you weep for me? I am everywhere. 1. I whisper this epitaph through whistle bone on the impossible climb to God’s table laden with the gifts I’ve prepared deep within my… Continue reading

2 poems — Kevin Heaton

BRING ME MY SHEAVES Sunshowers spit-shined the shark’s tooth that gutted Kansas’ only diamondback. You were just a puff adder feigning rattles— scavenging rat droppings for field mice in bales of switchgrass. I… Continue reading

Pictures — Laura Kathleen Marsico

Click Image to Enlarge. *** Laura Kathleen Marsico is a fan of animals, music and plants. She is living in Pittsburgh, PA while attempting to solve a few of life’s mysteries.


And what of the disappeared? What of the moments rising from the bottom of the spring In fever, we found each other once, like drowning men scraping their fingers raw against the rocks… Continue reading