The pieces collected here—lyrical, self-critical, and hilarious by turns—all take the measure of what it means to be out in the world. Liam McMillin, I Call it “Éire”Christopher Bryan, StitchesA. W. Barnes, Morta SicuraKenneth Zahka, In Bulk, Or, My
by Liam McMillin
They had strange names, and lived in a city built beneath the surface of the earth, and they were left there for centuries. Like all stories, they rode the river out, to the light, a boy, a girl, and a baby.
by Christopher Bryan
A fat drop of blood trickles down my leg and I worry it might drip on Irene’s floor-mats.
by A. W. Barnes
When I escorted Nikki to her car, I hugged her goodbye and said that I looked forward to her next visit. She held onto to me tightly and whispered into my ear, “You know the Indians killed him, don’t you?”
by Kenneth Zahka
I am a pediatric cardiologist at the Cleveland Clinic. And I collect Costcos.