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Hiatus Interruptus

It has been far too long since we have been able to work on our site! A full website was in the works, but without a designer that knew what they were doing, it was MONTHS of agony and overdue library books on website creation. We’ll be sticking with the WordPress site for awhile as it seems to be the easiest for all, including our readers, to maneuver. Also, our first title is still forthcoming!…

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MY NEANDERTHAL EX by Laura Nelson

We’re back after a short respite, and on my birthday too! I love this short poem. Humor is often great catharsis. My Neanderthal Ex Short and sweet. More like short and informative. A learning experience, it was. It was A dance with Dinosaurs. Kissing ogres. Sleeping with giants. One time mistakes.

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Book Review: MY HEART IN ASPIC by Sonya Vatomsky

Sonya Vatomsky, My Heart in Aspic. Cincinnati: Porkbelly Press, 2015. $7.00 Reviewed by Heidi Czerwiec Many of the poems in Moscow-born poet Sonya Vatomsky’s chapbook have a folkloric feel, where what one eats may have dire consequences. Here visceral endings are not glossed over or romanticized but embraced, the threat everywhere implicit, as in “Threnody in three courses”: The moon is a dish of…

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SINCERELY by Meg Johnson

Dear Reader, One of my favorite writing exercises is to write eviction letters and such to the ghosts in my head. Sometimes they turn into fun little poems. Still, I’m not sure my form of exorcism is nearly as fun as this poem by Meg Johnson. Please enjoy. Cordially, Jillian M. Phillips, Managing Editor Sincerely Dear A, I’m sorry I had sex at your parents’ house. I did not have sex with your…

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Things Are Happening!

In the few months since I decided to start this press, some awesome things have happened. Our online journal, The Plot, is doing very well. We’ve had many shares, likes, follows, and general compliments on the caliber of the work we’re putting out into the world. It’s incredible how many writers are submitting with high-quality work. The fact that I get to be the one who helps bring these…

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THANK YOU FOR EATING MY PUSSY... by Allie Marini

I love this poem, inspired by a Facebook thread yesterday. If you haven’t been following Cat Conway’s new project Thank You for Swallowing, you really should be. It’s funny, witty, gritty, emotional, and has just the right amount of snark to make you smirk. And this week, a bonus! Click below the text to hear Allie read her poem!!! Thank You for Eating My Pussy, After Reading Susan Yount’s You’re…

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BOILER ROOM by Kiara Nicole Letcher

I love this poem. Heather Langenkemp (the heroine actress in the NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET series) would be so proud. This another poem that I’ve posted in PDF form so that Kiara’s formatting could be preserved. Kiara Letcher BOILER ROOM Kiara Nicole Letcher is poet who currently resides in Omaha, Nebraska. She received her MFA from The University of Nebraska at Omaha in 2014. She has appeared in…

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A WOMAN NAMED by Ellie Slaughter

A WOMAN NAMED     Dumpster, sperm endlessly pouring into her mouth like the heads of flowers into a parade river. This is not to say her only purpose is to lean her head back for strangers, but something quiet is being filled inside of her. A list? The names, or lack of names, lined her stomach and stuck like cholesterol to arteries, or henna to hands of children, young girls who want temporary…

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GIRLS ON FIRE by Jeannine Hall Gailey And now, as promised, the prosey companion to "Girl on Fire" from the other day. It's the questions Jeannine asks in this piece that get me.

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Book Review: THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON by Danielle Pafunda

The Dead Girls Speak in Unison by Danielle Pafunda. Atlanta: Coconut Books, 2014. 88pp. $14.00 paperback. The premise of Pafunda’s sixth collection, The Dead Girls Speak in Unison, raises several questions: why in unison? why “girls”? how did they get dead? and to whom are they speaking? We don’t often see choral speakers, but speaking in unison gives these “girls” collective presence, forcing us…

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This is what Villainess loves to see: unabashedness!!! Big hearts to PEN & Purdey!

This week in the PEN Poetry Series, PEN America features a poem by Purdey Lord Kreiden.

Mars(eillaise)

First I was intoxicated with rubbing my pussy   Lightly against the chair upon which I was sitting,       Rocking back and forth for ages then with running           Around my grandparents’ pillars to get dizzy              Then with sitting on my legs for a long time            To get my limbs all numb with les fourmis after          That I got hooked on baby bottle filled with coca         Cola then milk then on drinking anything out of a baby          Bottle and on getting fed by my grandmother without           Having to hold the fork myself to my mouth            Then I discovered masturbation that occupied me             For a while then I was hooked on the feeling that                   Ran through me when I rubbed my leg against                     Maxime Givetogod’s legs in grammar school

Read More: http://www.pen.org/poetry/marseillaise

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Morgaine

Morgaine goes up to the counter and quietly but decisively orders a black tea. One of the baristas refuses to serve her, claiming that this customer is absolutely the worst.

“I’m not so sure,” says the other barista, whose name is Marion. “Not only should we make her the drink, I think we might even consider giving her some free biscotti.”

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INFINITELY SCALABLE MODEL OF ONE THEORY OF EFFICIENCY by Jessica Cornelson

What I love about this poem is Jesseca’s fearlessness of language. So often, it seems, poets will use the wrong word because the right word could be deemed “inappropriate.” Sometimes, folks, you just have to say FUCK and allow it to be eloquent. Infinitely Scalable Model of One Theory of Efficiency   Here we have the self-fucking cock, wind ’im up and watch ’im bang   himself into oblivion, the…

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mY TOWNS LIBRARY IS DOING THESE MUGSHOT THINGS WJUBGAJREGFKJ

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ELIQUATUS by Amy Lewis

Our first flash fiction comes from Amy Lewis. A little lipstick, a bad date, it’s almost a true story… ELIQUATUS You hear him speak.“Your lipstick is staining your teeth, baby. It’s ruining your killer smile. Here.” He stretches his hands towards you and offers a napkin. His lips are swollen and intestinal. The way they mouth the vowels, sucking at them like hungry leeches, leaving the words…

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THE BAR by Rozanne Gold

I am suddenly craving a whiskey old fashioned… The Bar articles on mixology often describe drinks involving whiskey rotating daily glasses of ice cubes shatter when barmen polish their lines with jive my sisters polish their looks in mirrors hugging the bar like a row of onions hoping for gibsons straight up with ribbon succulent plants to suck on   chatter all night   What did you say?   You…

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FIVE VOLVOS IN & OUT OF TEXAS by Alexis Quinlan

Today, we’re featuring Alexis Quinlan’s tribute to Texas riot grrls. The riot grrls are one of the original inspirations for/pioneers of the Gurlesque. What better way to celebrate them than with a rockin’ poem, right? Five Volvos In and Out of Texas There was a girl in Austin, lewd girl from Lake Charles, did the boarding school in Dallas and drank like an oil man who’d struck it so rich so fast…