Author: Alfonso Colasuonno
Short fiction

All of Saint Peter’s Associates, by Jihoon Park

Saint Peter sat at his desk, doing figures. Stacks of papers were strewn across his desk as he typed away on a small desktop computer. The only other object on his desk was a small, incandescent and insufficient lamp. At first he was against the idea of going digital. He had used ink on honest-to-god […]

Two, by Tiffany Nakawatase

There was two of him inside of one. The man he was inside my bedroom And the man he was outside my bedroom. And I swear, each of them were different men. # Shedding the old to find the new. Tiffany’s writing is a mix of love, despair, loss and growth.

King Acid, by Patrick King

And then there was King Acid. He was like Johnny in The Wild One. What was he rebelling against? “Whadda ya got?” King Acid a whirligig of energy, of sadness, of liberation. I met him in June 1998 at a little apartment party. I was only seventeen, but out of high school and sharing an […]

The N Word Poem, by Shawn Hudson

Introduction by the author: I’m Shawn Hudson, a young Black man in America that writes poetry and stories that are a reflection of the life and times. When writing The N Word Poem I wanted to express how I feel that we as African-Americans need to focus on the big picture and not get caught […]

Poetry for Beautiful Losers

Recipe/Ransom Note, by Julia Horwitz

window closed its lips and you walked in (silence, dust, powdered sugar, cinnamon, tbsp. of warm milk) brand new freckle push-pinned into my neck Suddenly, I could fall asleep in the back seat feel clean just by licking each of your fingers I swore I’d never need to read another menu I’ll have the regular, […]

Hands, by Adrian Neibauer

I look for chores to busy my hands, inherited from Marie, my German grandmother. She barely sat down for 76 years. She would clean and cook and wash and cut the grass. Except when Frida would come over. Two German sisters: sitting over coffee, chatting in German, smiling at their grandchildren as I meandered in […]

Witch trials

Moonlight, by J. Newell

May 1, 1632 I undid the tie on my bonnet, skipping through yellow reeds long enough to tickle my chin. There was a cool breeze in the air, promises of fall, that lifted tresses of my brown, waved hair. My mother had never let me cut it, so it fell near to my waist. The […]

A poem by J.J. Campbell called Heavy Breathing

Heavy Breathing, by J.J. Campbell

the phone rang just as i started to masturbate this afternoon the guy trying to get me to switch my long distance didn’t appreciate all the heavy breathing i didn’t exactly care for his high pitch southern drawl either

Paul Beckman's Short Fiction House Beautiful

House Beautiful, by Paul Beckman

Herbert sat in his chair, a large mahogany overstuffed leather with matching ottoman, and Sheila sat in hers, a spindle backed rocker with thin pillow pads tied to the seat and chair back. The powder blue pads were interchangeable and washable and had tiny white butterflies as their only design. The cloth strips that tied […]

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