"Paperbag is interested in presenting larger bodies of poetry, visual art, sound, collaboration, and experiment from established and emerging writers and artists throughout the world."
Vibe: Send us your best but less intimidating
Response time:
?
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:
2010
Has Masthead info:
Yes

Important stuff

Present only on Facebook

Genres

👌

Poetry

6-12 pages
👌

Art

6-12 pages
👌

Audio

Max pieces: 36-12 pages
👌

Video

Max pieces: 66-12 pages
👌

Hybrid

No specific limitations

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Masthead

We currently list only main editors, more will be added later!
If you're an editor, you can edit your masthead in our admin panel :)

Margarita Delcheva

Editor

Petro Moysaenko

Editor

Levi Rubeck

Editor

Examples

'For My Uncle Kiko, Who's Spent Most of His Life in Psychiatric Hospitals with Schizophrenia' by Ariel Francisco

(excerpt)
We can’t bring in our phones, the armed security says it’s to protect the patients from photos, that they technically can’t consent, that it’s a real shame we can’t take pictures with our loved ones to share with our other loved ones who want to know how our loved ones are doing.
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'Essay on Violence' by Daniel Bailey

(excerpt)
Violence is everywhere. Someone said that once. I forget who. Maybe it was my mom. I know for a fact it wasn’t my dad. He doesn’t say stuff like that. He usually just says stuff like, “You need to think about the way you present yourself to others. It’s very easy for potential employers to Google you and find things that may prevent you from getting a job.” Then I say something like, “Dad, if anything prevents me from getting a job it’ll be the swastika that I’m about to get tattooed on my forehead. See ya later.” One night I was walking down the street and this guy who looked like a Vietnam vet asked me for a cigarette and I threw the whole pack at him and ran away. He had a very large dog. A Rottweiler or something. He yelled, “Thank you,” as I ran away.
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'All Failure is Conditional' by Paige Taggart

(excerpt)
i thrive, thrack and fail send all intent out to sea to a banished hell cuz baby we gotta believe in something i try not to self-diagnose based on something i read on the internet send all encasements of my inner being on a liquid barge a diptych shift in the ship's velocity sprouting uptail current swift and compromised not needing any eyeglasses i fend for an accessory that still places itself upon my body on a need-for basis
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'What We Noise' by Mathias Svalina

(excerpt)
We must listen or we walk away. We are the hallways in which the shots echo, the gaps between the roots that cultivate the fire. We learn our names in relation to the pulley’s squeal, the wrought iron grinding on the open truck bay. We stop our voices at the edge of the noise & find the blood that drips to the steel table harmonious. All noise is doomed to failure. The potter's field floods & reveals its noise among the pillows & quilts of human hair. Thirteen million pure black notes infest the stretched skin of the bull. Bells ring. Swallows dip past the green lake. Sound damages, yet needs a listener.
Read the full piece in the magazine

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