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It’s your lucky day. So, what’s one of your fears? (Not your greatest fear—but something bearable, like spiders or flunking a class or waking up beside a crow or a possum.) It’s happening. Your fear is here. Write in as much sensory detail about the experience, for ten minutes, with the goal of having overcome that fear by the end of your freewrite.

By Meghan Prindle

A mask appears on our sidewalk,
And another
And another.

The heavy hollow weight drops,
The noose tightens,
The walls squeeze ever closer in.

And so, I play and wait and cook
and wait and walk and wait and
work and wait and write and wait
and sew and wait,

And live and wait,
Lest my courage gives out.

By Aiden Ramirez-Tatum

it's like my dad told me.
like he saw, as a kid, with his mom
an old car, impact, without safety glass and then
like sleet, falling, a guillotine and,
a person, the piece of them that used to
be the part that talked, maybe, but definitely
the part that thought, and there it goes

clunk-a clunk,
onto the street in front of me.

and what's worse? I feel nothing! My God,
for an entire person, right here—
and I can't bring myself to feel,
before scanning, and moving
and saving my damn self, of course,

and I go into work and see worse.
and I go home and see worse.
and I go to sleep, worse.

I wake up, worse.

Don’ it suck
By S. Atticus Olivet

Don’ it suck  politicians suck
When was the last time
YouMe didn’ get stuck by the man
When YouMe realize everything’s fine?
Right, we neither.

So climate crisis, right?
Big ole razzle-dazzle
Slow burn fight shouldn’
Be a fight; can’ shouldn’ win.
Need a breather,

But can’ do that no
ma’am sir all YouMe can’t
If stopt that’s mama’s righteous
kaput no mr(s) all people
Never another day.

So politicians dance
Play pay-me-in-the-lobby games,
YouMe sit, societal dick in hand
Waiting for some change
Never anyone’ll say

“It’s solved” honestly
‘Cause it can’ at we rate
Like at all of us’ pace now
Now it need change - YouMe’s hands.

Now it starts today.


orange, jam jar, yogurt

peach skin, plum, pesto
left untended

slice of bread, tomato paste,
avocado rind

pages in an old book,
unbrushed teeth

the basement of Michael Jordan’s

the big toe of my
right foot


left to grow in a petri
dish, what hues:

carotine, hyacinth, casino
pink, aquamarine

colors you’d pay thousands
to put on your walls.

High S’cool Reunion
By Logan Corey

And then he apologized for
forgetting the name tag,
“But it’s OK,
right? We’re all
friends here. Go on
in and say