Author: Director

Serial Fiction
Benny Profane
The fine institution that I currently toil for, despite its delusions of grandeur, is actually a popular meeting place for many of this city’s more irascible characters. That is the numerous low-lifes, junkies and down-and-outers that add those wonderful textures of...

Poetry
Lar Kenny
For an Argentine harlot with silver teeth . Beneath the waning amber light a hand is offered from inside smoke; where silly plans of love are scattered, hoarse cries float from scarlet tongues; the Ginastera piano plays, her weightless ways’ embodiment. “Dance,” she puts down her Quentão, “Dance,” she says, “Dance!”...

Poetry
Avelynne Kang
You kissed me Slick with nicotine Lips pompous, pouting poppies Like we’re veterans Of the thousand little deaths In a cigarette In my thrusts— A delicious additive to the ego I stroked and stroked and stroked— Me, your mental Viagra My work left in the dust That trails your triumph....

Poetry
Kevin Higgins
Right now things may look black as crematorium smoke. You sit watching assignment deadlines pass, like buses one by one growling out of a Friday evening depot. . Trump’s elected and the girl with whom you spent last night sharing your hurt wouldn’t even give the traditional sympathy hand job. . Well,...

Short Fiction
John Creevy
It is forever grey here. Grey skies, grey ground; the whitewashed house your father left you on a famine road. Malnutrition: that sheet of dust on the cans in cupboards unopened these past few weeks. Apart from the house, he...

Flash Fiction
James Riley
Winter is coming, but discontent is ever-present. That encompasses my worldview pretty nicely; we are derivative, cross referencing cyborgs addicted to culture and our own pitiful sense of unfulfillment. The children of the most fruitful period in human history are overeducated, underwhelmed...

Short Fiction
Kenneth Nolan
‘Last night in a dreamI returned to Lady PenhHustle and bustleall those accosting smellsavailable to enjoy againIt was on my last visitwhere I feel I left something behindMy peace of mindMy anchor beerMy whiskeyMy life of happy madnessA madness which pumps...