2 new poems by Salvatore Difalco
I started wearing faux leather pants
but chafing restricted my movements
and people took to gawking
Culling of the Centaurs by James Callan
smith and scrivener
bowman and bride
getting on like a house on fire
The Third Obituary of Hiram C. Young by Marsden Lyonwahl
It is with sadness, respect, and some chagrin that this paper announces the passing of…
Bob Haiku by Meg Pokrass
Past the good tables
Smiling in the cat café
The Laughingstock of the Death-Collectors’ Convention by Christie Chapman
The non-blade end of my scythe, which, yes, is BeDazzled™ and covered in Lisa Frank…
THE 2026 FIFA WORLD CUP: WHERE IT IS BEING PLAYED, HOW TO AVOID IT
At what cost to the local infrastructure will North America welcome back the sport that…
The Best Dollar He’d Ever Spent by Pablo Libedinsky
Pablo sat in the almost empty train and put his feet up on the opposite…
Note on a Napkin, to a Napkin by Peter Mladinic
Jacobson moves from scene to scene with the ease of a seasoned storyteller.
Mom said I had to invite the whole class to my slumber party, which includes the girl who always pretends she’s Werner Herzog, who didn’t break character all night by Casey Garfield
I dared her to make the prank call and she said ‘We are doing a…
The Incredible Throbbing Shamrock by Theodore Wallbanger
Addicts, beer-battered shoe/car/dental salesmen rampaged with Schleprocks, and a tickle fest of lumberjacks hyper-fixated with…