"An independent publisher of poetry and fiction based in Colorado. We showcase gut-punch free verse and eye-opening prose from across the U.S. and abroad. We are the confluence of Charles Simic and Ray Bradbury, with pieces that leave you feeling like you need to re-read them again, right on the spot."
Open:
Yes
Vibe: We're just chilling here
Response time:
1-2 months
Payment:
No
Simultaneous submissions:
Yes
Previously published:
No
Submission fee:
Free
Expedited submissions:
No
Available in print:
No
Examples online:
Yes
Average acceptance rate:
?
Country:
United States
Year founded:
2022
Has Masthead info:
Yes

Genres

👌

Fiction

Max words: 10000
👌

Poetry

Max pieces: 5

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Masthead

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If you're an editor, you can edit your masthead in our admin panel :)

KYLE NEWMAN

Poetry Editor
poetry

JUSTIN RAMPY

Fiction Editor
fiction

Examples

'LISTEN, I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING' by Andrea Lawler

(excerpt)
Inside my dream, a dream. A cat sunning itself in the bay window. A small party. Silk, satin, some other materials. There are strangers who have loved me. There are lovers who have left me. I have written tirelessly about both. Fast traffic. Wet snow. The sound of acrylic nails tapping on a wooden bar-top counter.
Read the full piece in the magazine

'THE DREAM I HAD THIS MORNING' by J. Christopher James

(excerpt)
I HAD A DREAM THIS MORNING, which isn't odd since I have dreams almost every dawn. They wake me in the subtle embrace of inspiration, alongside the birds chirping outside my window. She was there, this morning. I met her again. It's amusing, isn't it?, the recurrence of an illusion. One starts to ponder the possibility of hallucination, willful self-deceit. She pushed a shopping cart through the alley, which was defined by a vacant factory on one side, and the backside of the city's underfunded and dilapidated psychiatric facility on the other.
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'MAGNUS EFFECT' by Jeffrey Dikeman

(excerpt)
My son squares his attention with a barrel. Crushed buckets of feelings, stinging my pitches like retribution, doing it again. I volunteer to shag with him — warm leather mixing with GLVs, regret and hope in my nose — a moratorium on my errors.
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'THE DISARMAMENT' by Jessie Sanchez

(excerpt)
Trash Day is always an accomplishment: I lug those full, stinking cans to the curb like I’m walking down the red carpet in an underfunded coronation for conquering another week, having spent the last seven days alternating between washing dishes and disarming intercontinental ballistic missiles buried beneath my home state:
Read the full piece in the magazine

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