Prose & Cons

by Gavin Dubois I can’t seem to keep my mind away from the ballpark. Not because I’m one of those kids that was bred on…

by Erica Walsh Love doesn’t know how to play the guitar. Love only knows how to whistle to itself, on a blue night, when the…

by Grace Roberson “whatever life you wear; it will become you.” -e.e. cummings In kindergarten, I was a rainbow clown for Halloween. My grandmother, who…

by Sam Brodsky Before I heard the news I was sitting cross-legged on sapphire-blue sheets, summer’s heat caked against the windows like static hugging silk,…

by Christina DiLuzio My issues are rooted Like the base of a tree in soil, they are deep within me Trying to pull them out,…

by Haley Goetz Returning back to the cornfield of chainsaws brought me a certain sense of peace every October. Beginning in my pre-teen years, making…

by Michael Petit my soul thrashes in this temple knocking down this ancient altar shitting on this sacrificial heart howling, squealing, cackling, sighing taking that…

by Gavin DuBois On a breezy Sunday morning in April, after weeks of listlessly gathering in the heavens, the clouds burst. Rain fell in clustered…

by Joseph Heiland I’m wearing my good jeans. The window is open. All different kinds of people walk on the paths below. They’re heading to…

By Christian Cassidy-Amstutz You came home late last night, opening the door to the fridge so you could see what you were doing by its…