Editor: Luke

Long //
Nazi Zombies by

I’ve got about ten minutes to rethink our plan, which of course I’m not doing because I’m thinking what a cool trick this is, how it’ll make me famous in the high school and, who knows, beyond, it’ll get a rise out of Mike and maybe make me a celebrity, like on Allen Funt, get me a spot on the Battle of the Network Stars or something, like that’s the kind of famous I’d be, and that yeah, I’d like to touch a boob too this year, I’m due, I’m a nice guy and all, and I bet those actors on The Network Stars touch boobs all the time—Farrah Fawcett’s, Suzanne Somer’s, it’s like a boob buffet when you’re celebrity. Like Chachi.

Short //
Givingly by

and he tossed / his leash made of stars, then tightened it, // around the antlers it seems I forget, always, / about having.

The Matrons
Short //
The Matrons by

the line they murmur / is always the same: / Do you want to dance upstairs, // from behind? / You can have all of us. It will be // like a forest. / And how much does the house / take? I ask.

Abandon Hope
Paul Van Dyke //
Abandon Hope by

Of all my days at war, I never dreaded rolling out the gate more than I did that morning. It was my first time in a humvee in two weeks, and I was once again in the driver’s seat. Last time I touched the steering wheel, my drive ended on top of a pressure plate IED.

Shrines to My Legacy
Paul Van Dyke //
Shrines to My Legacy by

I spent years blaming myself for not seeing the signs. What kind of son doesn’t notice that his own mother wants to end her life? I poured over my memories like a football coach studying reels of his defeats.