by TNSF | Mar 1, 2021 | Poems, Vol. 4, Issue 4
Fruiting Body Sometimes I imagine my body fodder for damp gardens, sunken in the permanent earth. I am not dead weight for trees. Sometimes a carcass is just a carcass. But the soft underside of every alive thing is an offering. Tender bellies up in surrender, supple...
by TNSF | Mar 1, 2021 | Poems, Vol. 4, Issue 4
These Stretchmarks These stretchmarks drink a full glass of water before bed, they want to stand up and stand out in the morning, tired of dimming their light to avoid attention. These stretchmarks don’t pretend, they leave red marks when you want to subtract...
by TNSF | Mar 1, 2021 | Visual Art, Vol. 4, Issue 4
Chamber Coda Chamber Coda was created exclusively with the pills found in the artist’s mother’s room after a final (successful) overdose. The nation is in the midst of an opioid epidemic, but marginalized populations are at dramatically higher risks....
by TNSF | Feb 28, 2021 | Nonfiction, Vol. 4, Issue 4
My dad pulls his own teeth. I know, it sounds insane, doesn’t it? What kind of loony do you have to be to pull your own teeth? . . . And maybe it’s a bit of an inaccurate statement. In nature it sounds a little click-bait-y, but it’s mostly the truth. The statement...
by TNSF | Feb 28, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 4
Breakaway peg-legged tables and vines growing in the cracks of your home. Cat fur fallen in the gaps of your sofa, the creature purring a room away. You grab your hair and pull it out like weeds. Like it’s a thing that was put there, not yours anymore. “I’m not dying...
