The Indicator
PROSE
- The BuyerEDWYN CHOI
“Incredible,” the buyer answered, still looking up. If the plot of trees were a painting, he resembled a smear on the finished canvas, a sharp, dark smear. The wind was not blowing anymore. He felt a little warmer. …Continue Reading The Buyer - the way homeSERIN HWANG
The woods behind my old high school burned down the winter after my senior year. They were gone within a day, leaving behind only the ash that settled on my car and the smoke that dimmed the sky, turning the sun a blazing orange. I was home from college at the time, abandoning crisp New England autumn for a dull West Coast winter, snowless but mildly chilly, until it wasn’t. California was still burning when I got back on the plane….Continue Reading the way home - Ode on a Warm SeaVENUMI GAMAGE
My fingers trace the smooth blue tile on the wall as we walk in together, catching on jagged line after line of grout. This is how I would map your body, catching on and pausing at every next new tile of you. We swing our balmy limbs onto the benches, like synchronised divers; in this moment we are perfect score, perfect twins. …Continue Reading Ode on a Warm Sea
- Self-Portrait Axed & OpenGABBY AVENA
A child is a fruit, I am told. Time carves / my center: two bodies twine inside / like aphids around bark. Harvested / fruit, your flesh emerges peach-soft & fuzzy, / sweetness suckling upon release. I shudder: / the taste is fear, or relief. A child is a fruit: from which / a new world is born. A child is a fruit: dropped & bruised / & poisoned….Continue Reading Self-Portrait Axed & Open - New EyesBEA AGBI
the hospital’s radiology and imaging floor / I took a look at my bones and the x-ray confirmed what I already knew – / that these branches are palms, this skin bark, no difference between breath / and chlorophyll save the distinctions / of time. When I’m no longer standing / Still waiting for a word from the old gods / When I’ve given up on keeping my lips clenched…Continue Reading New Eyes - Starchild 11:25CHELA CUNNINGHAM
i’ve been to the movies six billion times and kept every ticket. i’ve raged and written. lined up all my bodies and carefully selected who i wanted to be that night….Continue Reading Starchild 11:25
POETRY
Featured Fiction
MACKENZIE DUNSON
I took a deep inhale, as my head tilted towards the sky, as I felt His hands on my shoulder and breath on my ear, perfect, He said, I know that you can make it perfect. He uttered my name. I shuddered, embodying the praise, receiving it in my mind, my soul.
His words pushed me towards the door.
Art Gallery
Featured Poem
AIDAN COOPER
all the times i let my teeth ferment in my spit without brushing before bed,
the bits scabbed over by fiber, in neat pairs…
separate under skin, i’ve never used a nutcracker,
i break my own jaw
