by Ryan Quinn Flanagan — Skeletonized Rodents in my Tuesday Cornmeal gluttony in the Apennines riverbeds force fed water things torn apart and wailing for a mercy that never comes the many campaigns of Hannibal now skeletonized into the twisted rock face and the winds are not cruel not in the least it is knowledge of them that provides the cruelty, the terror but the…

by Wanda Morrow Clevenger — I keep logging on to the wide world and see purple paisley painted posts on how we are all >here for a reason< and wonder if those posting pilfered prophecy have considered all the endless convoluted angles are the mass murderers and rabid rapists and tireless terrorists and delusion dimwits here for some…

by Richard King Perkins II — Skeleton Mind Mind paces the infinite corridor like a ravenous, chittering fowl where love-trickster Heart has ensorcelled it within the tube of the first infatuation. Tchk Tchk Tchk Tchk is the incessant pecking echo of a trillion trillion stony keys thrust into the gullet of a mismatched lock. There is always one…

By Matthew Borczon — since the war I beat my head with the bones of dead soldiers and Marines keeping time with their voices in side my skull singing their death songs behind my eyes. Matthew Borczon is a nurse and Navy sailor from Erie, Pa. He is the author of two books; A Clock of Human Bones from Yellow Chair Review Press, and Battle Lines from Epic Rites press. His third book Ghost Train will be out in 2017 from Weasel Press.

Excerpts from the Podcast of the Oak Park Resettlement — by Ed Ahern The devastation began softly, with the nocturnal humming of housefly wings. Flies that had shared tens of thousands of years of daytime activity with us, living off waste and excretion, began to explore the night. And to explore other nutrition. When the biteless fliers found it they had dined on…

by Eric Raanan Fischman — Claws will be essential, if you are to dig your way out. You will need jointed limbs, a musculature, a mouth. Which will you choose, fur or feathers? Will you sense by light, sound, or touch? Already you can smell the wetness of the mud, the air powdered with broken stone. Will you…

by P.T. Logos — “Eat the bones,” she said through flames’ heat. “Forget the skin, and forget the meat.” “But why?” I asked with teeth unable to chew Through meat, into bones, I hadn’t a clue. “You seek, you ask, you wonder why? The bones, the center, will make you cry. …

by Seth Jani — Transmogrification The color of bones Under the streambed’s Filmy water Are like strange fish Darting out of view. Black. Incandescent. Red as silt or longing. All of them marking the place Where something has been forgot. The unnoticed alchemy of matter Dissolving into spirit. …

Pseudoceros Bifurcus — by Jordan A. Rothacker Dr. Mame removes her glasses and rubs her eyes, kneading the dry dough-like skin. The nights seemed to be getting later. The coffee didn’t stay warm enough long enough, the metal stools hurt her butt and lower back, and the lab tables were always cold on her forearms as she…