Poetry by Deon Robinson
What I Was Owed I, for one, wanted his arm gone. Dimas wanted to test run some tacky mustard yellow paper cutter left unsupervised...
"About the Work" with Jessica Poli
"About the Work" with Jessica Poli In our "About the Work" series, Olga Mexina and Tom Sokolowski ask recent contributors for insight...
Nonfiction by Julia Cohen
Dark Levity: On Clear Shower Curtains & Living as an Unreliable Narrator “Such a soft sound being eaten from inside your own skull”—David...
41.2 Andrew Collard
The Neighborhood Only Returns in Fragments Robin, ryegrass, trilevel, oak. As though a scene enshrined as the subject of some great...
41.2 Jeff Whitney
You Will Walk the Earth For Some Amount of Days And you will get an apartment that’s aggressively ok, beetles streaming from the walls...
41.2 Winshen Liu
August, Living Alone These days, the heat has given me free therapy. It’s had me around the house dressed like there’s a pool nearby when...
41.2 Nick Story
Disaster Movie Before leaving her in charge for the evening, Felix begged Justine to be more helpful with the customers. He argued that...
41.2 Natasha Rao
VS. Smoking cigarettes with a new friend in Silver Lake, I felt a jolt hearing him say Lorimer and Metropolitan, then mention the bar on...
41.2 Readers
Readers Southeast Review, Vol. 41.2 Gabrielle Aboki Marcie Alexander Sriya Chakraborty Thomas Cowan Samantha Crawford Gabriela Diaz...
41.2 Hannah V Warren
A Half-Step From Salvation Our house was the house of mourning. —Mary Shelley we can’t find the end of this empty road red dirt & gravel...
