Girlhood, or maybe not
︎︎︎ Tazha Chen
︎ Apr 19, 2025
Girl and I had locks that hung long.
We braided our hair into each others.
Melange-d chesnut and chocolate brown tendrils entangled into each twist and pull, from the little bathroom of a restaurant in Paris, through laughter that was like the ugly sister of a giggle.
The night before, Girl cries over a boy and I comb her locks as she sits shivering in the empty bathtub.
No sister is ugly after this.
The hot water lasts anytime from nowhere to never
So Girl opts for empty not cold while her hot tears retort irony onto her chest-hugged thighs, in the name of “it’s better to have loved and lost”
My locks are tied behind my back where I can’t see them anymore so as to not get in the way of my service.
My hair will find itself back there more and more often soon.
Girl’s hair is chocolate like mine, but only when damp and there’s a metaphor there, but I won’t indulge myself this time.
The strands stick to her back as I peel off each bundle.
It tangles and tugs like little strings of rubber, rejecting each pass through; I persist.
As the weeks go on, Girl combs her own hair and she makes me dinner with a grin but really she’s making herself dinner.
I express gratitude but come to feel that if Girl didn’t see her reflection in these plates, they’d remain empty
and somehow I can still feel her damp hair in my fingers
We braided our hair into each others.
Melange-d chesnut and chocolate brown tendrils entangled into each twist and pull, from the little bathroom of a restaurant in Paris, through laughter that was like the ugly sister of a giggle.
The night before, Girl cries over a boy and I comb her locks as she sits shivering in the empty bathtub.
No sister is ugly after this.
The hot water lasts anytime from nowhere to never
So Girl opts for empty not cold while her hot tears retort irony onto her chest-hugged thighs, in the name of “it’s better to have loved and lost”
My locks are tied behind my back where I can’t see them anymore so as to not get in the way of my service.
My hair will find itself back there more and more often soon.
Girl’s hair is chocolate like mine, but only when damp and there’s a metaphor there, but I won’t indulge myself this time.
The strands stick to her back as I peel off each bundle.
It tangles and tugs like little strings of rubber, rejecting each pass through; I persist.
As the weeks go on, Girl combs her own hair and she makes me dinner with a grin but really she’s making herself dinner.
I express gratitude but come to feel that if Girl didn’t see her reflection in these plates, they’d remain empty
and somehow I can still feel her damp hair in my fingers
Tazha Chen is from New York City.
Future departments
︎︎︎ Marshall Peace
︎ Apr 18, 2025
They’re giving back everything you’ve ever lost now
And I heard if you lose anything going forward,
they’ll give that back to you too.
They’re making new words
I heard they will be spoken next year.
All the time in the world
Has been begun again
And I heard they extended it indefinitely
And they made a new direction
Besides West,
North, East,
South –
Listen –
The wind is coming
in from it right now
And I heard if you lose anything going forward,
they’ll give that back to you too.
They’re making new words
I heard they will be spoken next year.
All the time in the world
Has been begun again
And I heard they extended it indefinitely
And they made a new direction
Besides West,
North, East,
South –
Listen –
The wind is coming
in from it right now
Marshall Peace is a writer and butcher in Greenville, South Carolina. His Substack is called Wounded Veteran Chicken BBQ.
I Fell In Love With A Skinhead Punk Rocker
︎︎︎ Ginger Jones
︎ Apr 16, 2025
It was the taste of vetiver and tongue
that turned me into some kind of a living thing,
crawling on all fours
over broken glass to the dance floor.
Worse still,
it could be right now,
but he keeps himself out of sight,
and me out of mind.
And now upon his return,
he loves a harem of
skinhead punk rocker women.
But I am still his girl,
blushing and bashful.
Me and my co-worker metal.
that turned me into some kind of a living thing,
crawling on all fours
over broken glass to the dance floor.
Worse still,
it could be right now,
but he keeps himself out of sight,
and me out of mind.
And now upon his return,
he loves a harem of
skinhead punk rocker women.
But I am still his girl,
blushing and bashful.
Me and my co-worker metal.
2021-10-12
︎︎︎ Josh Lovins
︎ Apr 15, 2025
less for the mason who cannot promise
a building is another life
a building is another life
FOREVER CHEMICALS
︎︎︎ Charlie Zacks
︎ Apr 11, 2025
Mom is trying to sell the house
She says
It needs a new roof
All the water gets in when it rains
I was packing up
Looking for that one polaroid
Of my ex girlfriend in just her bra
I wanted to see if it was real
All the wallpaper is gone
It’s all white now
Can’t find the polaroid
Maybe I did that thing
Where I wake up in the middle of the night
Burn the things I love
And go back to sleep
She says
It needs a new roof
All the water gets in when it rains
I was packing up
Looking for that one polaroid
Of my ex girlfriend in just her bra
I wanted to see if it was real
All the wallpaper is gone
It’s all white now
Can’t find the polaroid
Maybe I did that thing
Where I wake up in the middle of the night
Burn the things I love
And go back to sleep
Charlie Zacks is a writer, editor, etc. from Atlanta, Georgia. He lives and studies in Montreal, where he runs Stimulant. He believes in all the right things and hates all the things you hate. 852002.xyz
Also by Charlie: 19 MURALS FOR MY BEDROOM WALL