Issue 3 – Spring 2018

GALLERY AND INTERVIEW

by Stephen West

ANGLES: Hi Pearse–please introduce yourself! PA: I am Pearse Anderson: mouselike, gothic,...

JET BLACK BATH WATER

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I sit in the cafeteria of the university I used to go to, reading and re-reading the message she sent me.

TWO POEMS

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Augury// Birds came to snap their necks against our windows because we’d built this house,...

A CAR RIDE, MOMENTS BEFORE IT RAINS

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I can only get flashes of her- her dark, thick, long hair. Her strong nose, pointed and elongated by the shadows surrounding us.

HANDS

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When I went mad it was my hands who suffered the most. I would wash them sometimes twice three...

DARWIN’S DAUGHTER

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The word mastodon means “breast tooth.” You would think it means something different, perhaps something to do with chewing because of the words “mastication” and “orthodontics,” but you’d be wrong

THE LIBRARY AT NIGHT

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The library is a strange place at night, I am told. Filled with odd things, apparently. I hear that the ghosts of books flit around the shelves, mixing with each other.

My legs cascading downstairs would read as a treatise between us. Nikolai, the tiny pads of Nikolai’s paws, and my own fear of direct confrontation would follow me as I took the steps down. I refused. I’d bury my grave in that bed.

KARL

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Karl looked out the window of his parents’ suburban dwelling. It was a modestly appealing August day

AQUAMARINE IS WILD, COMPARED TO YOU

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Compared to Eoith, Novelite’s back was soft; all bamboo yarn and rip tide waves beneath his...

TWO POEMS

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The Modern Wolf Melon shoes stomping all over the cup crinkled oak, we are invincible...

THE GRAVEYARD LUX

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1000 Lux Through the wintered hickory trees my father spotted the Watson Cemetery, one of the two...