Emily Grey - Brenda Estrada Andrea Vazquez - I Understand My Human Being Amanda Ly - 5 Micro-Interviews with Mental Health Professionals Raul Meza Munoz - To The Admissions Officer Raul Meza Munoz - Strawberry Raul Meza Munoz - Specters in the Mirror The 2019 Inscape Editor's Prizes For Prose - Kathlene McGovern - Signet For Poetry - Baylie Raddon - In Hopes of Being an Oxpecker in My Next Dream Robyn Cheng - Growl Sophia Murlowski - Taste of Fire Baylie Raddon - A Review of Good Bones by Maggie Smith
Recovery is Possible - Issue Editor's Introduction Dear Death - Isabella Olguin Photography - Humboldt County - Chloe Zofia Hawkins 2019 Handley Award Winner - Cassie Wilson Asking for Help - Kitty Anarchy After it Happened - Kitty Anarchy Foursquare - Kitty Anarchy Break Up Poems - Amy Ace The Rules of Rape Before #MeToo: For Women - Bernadette Ortiz Photography - "Girl" - Bernadette Ortiz Con Gracia - Brenda Estrada
Online Issue Contributors
Art from Silas Plum
Through assemblages of defunct currency, discarded photographs, and long-forgotten illustrations, Silas Plum challenges the idea of objective vs subjective value. He believes strongly in the tired old maxim that the true value of an object is more than the sum of its parts, that the gut is a truth-teller, and that the Aristotelian notion of learning-by-doing is the best teacher around. Judge his worth at silasplum.com.
Sebouh Oshagan is a student at PCC, majoring in English Literature. He is a big fan of Frankenstein's monster and wants to give him a hug.
About Sanjeev Sethi
Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three books of poetry. His most recent collection is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems are in venues around the world: The Broadkill Review, After the Pause, Chicago Record Magazine,Unlikely Stories Mark V,Stickman Review,Ann Arbor Review, Neologism Poetry Journal, Home Planet News, London Grip, M58, Postcolonial Text, Communion Arts Journal, and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India.
In the holy mess, chasing temporal concerns with single-mindedness of strays, alarm of an ambulance stokes your presence and uneven chords. Music of our mossiness can't be held dear. Some we don't wish to divvy up, some concerts fail to flicflac.
In ear-piercing surround of scullery you're as audible as your blazon. There is no evidence of the well- spoken as drumming shellacs the sober. Meter isn't make-work, it is balm for bafflements. It keeps me high-toned and whole-souled. At the secretaire.
Specters in the Mirror by Raul Meza Munoz
Boredom, at the world pools in the eyes of strangers, of myself becoming stranger. The mirror bores me, when those eyes bore into me As the exhausted world bears my woes, allowing strangers to see the stranger I've become. Thus, boredom pools in the heart of the stranger, glancing at a self - portrait, as a man unconcerned with the world, emulating such tragedy, sublimates into the bleak. This aching heartbreaking world -- it bores me to pieces.