We are looking for short fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, visual art, and photography that explore all the dirty things we’re told to scrub away… and what happens when they stick around.…
Those flower pistils shoot photons hottie so so / don’t is that dust drugs corners lips yours move / me laminated maps stand half out the dirt…
People need to give me love. You’re coming / to, you’re coming too, peg up no / side, sunny vertical a group outside…
flowering tabloids today I get myself / to be gone now nothing hurting nothing / but more to say zip too of when / I lifted hat labeled beef brand…
I feel danger door can’t see where / one meaning many I do have trust / as mercury lines a hothouse petal…
