Zero Readers

Category: Issue #1

In the grounds

Nathalie Lawrence Her coffeecould wake the dead,quite literally. This secret menu was real. The body lay on three tablespushed togetherwhile his father sipped mint teain a corner after hours. The recipe, simple:too many beansdark, oilycrushed by screaming burrswater, too hotin an antique espresso machine,made of hammered brass. The too much of it all,became pure alchemy,though […]

Isolated Piano

Mark J. Mitchell His notes smell of cognac—dark old woodand finesse. The tip-snifter rests on tophis home spinet. Was a time he wouldfill it with warm, brown liquid, then practice.Now it holds dust and matchbooks. Still, he couldsmell brandy as he plunked black keys. Dark woodstill echoed as he played for no one to stophis […]

Sixteen, doing buggies at the Shop-n-Save

Jason Melvin gaze beyond the bridgesas the early evening sundips into the tailof the Ohio river two cloud-making smoke stackspuff awaya rippled reflection of it allin the iridescent flow smell of fried fishwafts upfrom the fast-food jointacross the parking lotmixes inwith the sweet gasoline of exhaust fumes   rumbling out of tail pipes  rattle of the cart wheelsacross scattered […]

Corner of the Eye

Michael Igoe Like the candles lit,by strangers at Easterin homemade gowns.Once they’re secluded, they point their fingersat their recent culprit.That same daythey taught howto steal the Mona Lisa. Michael Igoe, instructor at Boston University’s Psych Rehab Center. City boy, neurodiverse, Chicago now Boston. Numerous works appear in online and print journals. Twitter: MichaelIgoe5. Erstwhile scholar, […]

A Piece Retrievable

Tom Zimmerman                                   Election Night 2020 I’ve used these thousand poems as a record:not the whole of any life, yet eacha piece retrievable, a broken funhousemirror shard that cuts unless it’s fingered gently. Chicken flautas in the oven,lettuce crisping in the fridge. A fifthof whiskey on the counter, shadow longas any bishop’s on a chessboard. […]

Syzygy

Paris Jessie                                               pressed in the margin between the sun and moonspending so much time wiping the drip                                                              drops of others how you wonder … when you will let yourself                                    twirl                       with                                                  rain             believe in the sun saturating           parts           of you   blues and purples                           f                           a                            l                             l into the muddy sky because you have the  l o n g […]

i am not a poet

Paxton Grey Paxton Grey (he/they) is a non-binary, neurodivergent software developer living in Virginia. He has a degree in Computer Science from Virginia Commonwealth University. They can be found on twitter @PaxWrites.

en route

Paxton Grey you know asphalt tastes like death:gritty between your teeth. you loseyourself to the icy street. drunk shoeless, you lie there waiting for an inattentive truckto do what you couldn’t. but it’s 3amin the suburbs and you can’t help but think you botched it again. soyou dry your eyes. swallow a few too manysleeping […]

Dear Gwendolyn

Paris Jessie Skies of blue have faded awaybecause what is lifewithout restful taste of loveso, tell me what kept you going— how many would like to know. Here comes the sky decoratedto take your voice awayback turned to the starsso, the vibrant streaks pave a way— how many would like to know. From grass blades […]

Constructing Walls as Metaphor for X

Justin Arthur Clark Walls have been built. Barricades have been erected. Brick by brick by brick. It is the eradication of open communication. It is a ceasefire of hostilities perpetuated by personal bereavement. It is seldom convenient but, at times, can be crucial for the continuation of internal motivations intrinsic to self preservation. Words have […]