All Vacations.

by Pasha Malla

“Michael Jackson is a great artist, and we must accept him as an artist. His movements are terrific. Not many people can move that way. You will end...

The Revolt of Class 2C.

by Aaron Fox-Lerner

My name is Bill Walker and I’m a professional white man. Which is another way of saying I teach English in Asia. It was a pretty easy job until my e...

The Fighting Game.

by Patrick Roesle

I met Randy when he was in the sixth grade and I was in the fifth. It was a Saturday in the middle of May; my dad had just given me his usual it’s s...


How to Cohere.

by Jenny Sampirisi

What it resembles. Something. The front of one creature. So. Like talking to themselves. No was. Mostly, I have. Talk as distinct from figuration. D...

Four Poems.

by Garry Thomas Morse

  Interiors where no one is, digested by the round eye of the mirror. That is conceit. Our oneiric blither of carnal essences, or images that l...

Escaping the Landscape.

by Alice Burdick

  How many landscapes till they melt into the canvas? The central idea is the location for the patterns. Don’t smoke them out—they’ll tell you ...

Three Poems.

by Jay MillAr

Conceptual Poetry That’s when you pulled out the Sapphic quartet— reminisced bitterly on the subject of women who reverse their direction seasonally...

Steeltown Songs.

by Sadie McCarney

I. All down the conveyor, the limes bumped ends with a banged-up mango and my checkout nerves. Off work, soon. And then another BOGO week, my lip gl...


Black Liquor and the Poetics of Violence”: An Interview with Dennis E. Bolen.

by Tracy Kyncl

Dennis E. Bolen hails from British Columbia where he helped build subTerrain magazine in 1989. Bolen is an established novelist, short fiction author, teacher, and he also served as a parole officer for many years. His most recent publications include Anticipated Results (Arsenal Pulp Press, 2011), Kaspoit! (Anvil Press, 2009), and Toy Gun (Anvil Press, 2005). For this interview we delved inside his first poetry collection, Black Liquor (Caitlin Press, 2013), and found out what “Growing Up Industrial” was like on the West Coast.  This interview was conducted via email between October and December 2013.   Tracy Kyncl: You have written several novels and two short fiction collections, but Black Liquor is your first book of poetry, and one that Mark Little described (at your Type Books launch) as a kind of memoir. You worked for the Correctional Services of Canada for over two decades and much of your fiction …...


“The Thatness of This”: A Review of M. Travis Lane’s Ash Steps, Robin Richardson’s Grunt of the Minotaur, and Carey Toane’s The Crystal Palace.

by Mark Sampson

This book is no diary. I am under revision but have not grown wiser. And my poems do not build upon each other like coral polyps in a reef. Each of these poems is a separate experience. To force progressive or developmental structure on a miscellany of discrete amusements is to forsake the fact of poetry for the wish of theory … When Adrienne Rich writes of meaning searching for its word like a hermit crab its shell, she makes more poignant Robert Frost’s image of metaphor as a temporary and imprecisely fitting shelter against the confusion of experience. Both poets remind us that the word is not the meaning nor is the word created by the meaning. The shell may be discarded. But a shell, a word, is needed. Unhoused, the nude crab perishes. So wrote M. Travis Lane in the introduction to her 1993 poetry collection, Temporary Shelter. …...


“The Inability to Say ‘Zed’”: An Introduction to Bridging the Literary Border: Winter 2014 Svpplement.

by E Martin Nolan

A border is never done. It can move, it is arbitrary, but it has definite consequences. I’ve been asked why I have curated a supplement on the US-Canadian border. I could go on and on. I have personally crossed that literary and cultural border, such that it is. I have crossed the bureaucratic border, and known the slim madness of being passed between stable neighbors. Or is it neighbours? Microsoft Word says the first is spelled correctly; my Text Edit disagrees. A minor limbo, I know. Nothing like crossing a real border, like fleeing in fear for your life or seeking a future unattainable back home. I could try to frame the clear distinctions between the US and Canada—political atmospheres, historical divergences, literary lineages—but I would be forced, almost every time, to ask: is that a real divergence or a minor deviation from a larger North American, or Western, norm? …