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Poetry
Martin Appleby
I used to be super into the movement tracked down every movie either on DVD or pirated rips whatever I could get my hands on I loved the DIY ethos the rawness the realness I related to the characters the slackers the losers the social awkwardness the stunted dialogue and those movies and that style the characters and themes have...

Great White Lies
Song of the Week 02/04/20
The Princess of Chaos is here… Arriving in an explosion of TripHop-alicious frenzy and hard rock zeal, she demands your full and immediate attention. Give it to her now or suffer the perilous cost… A frenetic feat in...

Short Fiction
Benny Carr
The old guard sit on benches at the back of the room rocking back and forth like warped old grandfather clocks as they neck pints of whiskey and blast off to distant planes. The young mohawks buck like wild horses on...

Poetry
Kevin Higgins
That time of the week when bachelor farmers decide, on balance, not to string themselves up in the outhouse, bravely switch on the wireless instead; . on Official Radio Marion the defunct feminist-to-a-moderate-extent has a few old pals around for two thrilling hours of cream tea and general...

Short Fiction
Druther Monkard
I believe that over time, stories become truths. Original realities confused and mainly removed. Hyped and transformed into more fantastical versions and forms, the more times they are spun. I’m guilty of this too, turning the most embarrassing things I have done, where...

Poetry
Name
hushed confessions screamed into the pillow each night before you cry yourself to sleep . no one wants to become the crusty old man . it’s much more romantic to die young, full of promise and potential . but on the other side of those myths are nothing . a vast crease of...

Short Fiction
Jim Meirose
Cassie Bash told me that on vacation she and hers were in the town square, out Bath England, we think, milling the small square outside the roman show. Eh okay, but we’re just about there. Hold it, slow down—I got to watch...

Poetry
David Piersol
Dear Georges, Dearest sweet mystic of mine, you saint. My boy Venus, philosopher of purest love. I’m cute so you’ll feed me lesser animals, & that makes you the animal-killer here. You talk about “violating” this or that, but you’ve got it backward: killing...