Issue 41 – let me risk a little light
This month we offer algae on walls, wilted flowers in the sea.
Issue 40 – now I believe
This month we offer the Buddha moon, stardust, bone-fields.
Issue 39: I need a minute
This month we offer wings, flight, the whole sky.
Issue 38 – I am imminent
This month we offer breath: holy ghost, matter, morning.
Issue 37: no prettier sight
This month we offer dust: a cloud, concrete kisses, shine.
Issue 36: toward the infinitesimal
This month we offer infinitesimal beings, pollen, creases, cracked clothes.
Issue 35: my survival
This month we offer lemonade bears, a new destiny of dew, and dug up gardens.
Issue 34: soil
This month we offer skies black, a cloud corked inside an umbrella, and the germination of the moon’s sanity.
Issue 33: the majesty of the mundane
This month we offer frost’s kiss, an empty shudder, golden threads of love.
Issue 32: the truth isn’t always hopeful
On the first day of the new year our theme is to forget, to put out of one's mind: we offer a blue plastic whale, bleak light billowing, too-frozen fan-ice.
Issue 31: it’s going to be beautiful
For our last issue of the year, we offer mushrooms, caption writers, and bygones.
Issue 30: ode
This month we offer changed names, the flame of fierce determination, and a body resistant to loving. Next month we continue to: ode Submission guidelines can be found here. love, amanda lezra Editor-in-Chief FITTING IN We kissed cats, Cuddled dogs, Reared rats, Fed frogs, Smoked
Issue 29: linger
layers - cory fisher This month we offer fruit we never eat, transparent gummy worms, and dream after dream. Next month we: ode Submission guidelines can be found here. love, amanda lezra Editor-in-Chief still life with neighbors Cezanne’s tables, broken and discontinuous, are
Issue 28: possess
This month the theme is possess: to have, or, to take, or, to be taken. Today we offer cookies garnished with poems, a sprig of lilac, a new love, and another love.
Issue 27: why is love
Today we offer a light that isn't really light, flat sweet bleach, and the one who will protect you.
Issue 26: the way you treated us
In the heat wave we offer bright little hostages, reflections of a necessary light, your broken violin, moonlight after rain.
Issue 25: this i know for sure
For our anniversary issue, we offer loud sun, lips exploring the countryside, a dawn of draught, and a sore throat.
Issue 24: release
This month, we offer detoxification, the subtle art of forgetting, mood swings, darkness, and how love becomes a part of it.
Issue 23: grief sells best where I’m from
This month, we offer nuance: rubies, beets, the book of the sun, no missed calls, a stain-less steel tree. “Nuance I'd say means redefining the smallest of details, parts that elude our daily scrutiny of this world. It means spotting a gash from the seemingly obscure, making out a white stain from the blinding dark. Nuance tilts towards shapeshift. The slight difference between our lifestyles & all other entities.”
Issue 22: if I could stop time
Late last winter the world as we knew it shut down. I kept a list of words that echoed across early pandemic conversations: grief, dead, sick, wait, prognosis, we’ll see, stay safe, be well. I unearthed this list this winter. I noticed how each word revolved around time: its ebbing, passing, ending; how much we have, how much we want.
Issue 21: the bright days were very bright
Shards of rain batter the window as I write this. The wind howls; the clouds are white sheets. Wherever you are this winter, I hope comfort sits with you, nearby.
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