The Unaccounted

Philip Schaefer

Say we slept like effigies on a stranger’s lawn.
          Sideways to the boats roping in, saltwater
                    lapping the land so thick we could slick it

His Hair Was on Fire

Ron Carlson

You ride the bus long enough, I mean daily for a year or two, maybe three, and you’re going to see somebody’s hair on fire. I’ve seen many other things,…


Lanre Akinsiku

The man and his son took a trip to the park, the man holding a boomerang under his arm. He wanted to play Frisbee, but the boy had seen the…

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