• #11Forklift, Ohio: Issue #11
  • #12Forklift, Ohio: Issue #12
  • #13Forklift, Ohio: Issue #13
  • #14Forklift, Ohio: Issue #14
  • #15Forklift, Ohio: Issue #15
  • #16Forklift, Ohio: Issue #16
  • #17Forklift, Ohio: Issue #17
  • #18Forklift, Ohio: Issue #18
  • #19Forklift, Ohio: Issue #19
  • #20Forklift, Ohio: Issue #20
  • #21Forklift, Ohio: Issue #21
  • #22Forklift, Ohio: Issue #22
  • #23Forklift, Ohio: Issue #23
  • #24Forklift, Oeno: Bin #24
  • #25Forklift, Ohio: Issue #25
  • #26Forklift, Ohio: Issue #26
  • #27Forklift, Ohio: Issue #27
  • #28Forklift, Ohio: Issue #28
  • #29-30Forklift, Ohio: Issue #29-30
  • #31Forklift, Ohio: Issue #31
  • #32Forklift, Ohio: Issue #32
  • #33Forklift, Ohio: Issue #33
  • #34Forklift, Ohio: Issue #34
  • #35-36Forklift, Ohio: Issue #35-36
  • #37Forklift, Ohio: Issue #37


Jacob Chapman

The Cowboy and the Shipwreck


When the ferry ran aground,

everyone turned to the cowboy,

who was stern and quiet.

Everyone asked him questions at the same time.

No one could stop talking.

No one could stop talking.

The cowboy took a pull from his flask

and said This is pretty much what I expected.

Everything slowed down,

and the bartender brought out trays

of Kool-Aid and vodka in plastic cups.

The cowboy shook his head

when he was offered a drink.

Everyone developed a swagger

and their own unique accent,

each of which was vaguely earthy.

The mood lifted.

Yay for the cowboy! everyone cheered.

Yay for the cowboy!

The ferry started to sink a bit,

and someone said something garbled

over the intercom.

The cowboy pointed out some boats

on the horizon.

Whaddaya think, cowboy? everyone asked.

The cowboy said Look closely.

They’re getting bigger. They’re coming toward us.

Everyone moved in to hug the cowboy,

who said That’ll do. That’s plenty.

That’s close enough.



Noor Al-Samarrai

Rose Petal Boob Jam


when I get my first tattoo

I would like to have my birthmark

permanently tattooed onto my body

over the original


I tell my sister

every time

we pass by a tattoo parlor

that I will get my first tattoo

today we laugh

because this is a joke

because it is not allowed

and of course it is a joke


I want the tattoo

but I’m too used

to losing things


things they just drift off

like chunked California

on an old map,

even the landmark on my

neck is disappearing

permanence could maybe unsettle


we walk past the tattoo parlors

get ice cream

and go to the rose garden

I pick petals

from the edges of some roses

put them in my bra while my sister isn’t looking


I forget about it most days

forget if it’s above my collarbone or not

when I point it out

to people

I point vaguely

at the entire eastern region of my neck

they are not impressed


undressing for the shower

the rose petals have wilted

to my nipples

the little hairs around them sticky

with rose petal boob jam


I consider my neck

without a birthmark

I am finding roses

everywhere I go now

emerging from a cut between toes

from my scalp as I scrub

pushing out of my armpits

they clog up

the drain




Brandi George

Precious Precocious Psychic


Pseudonym princess prances phasmophobic

Pariah penniless peony parody peeps pulse

Perfect peregrine periwinkle pyrrhic protest

Pyrrhic psycho pyrrhic pulchritude perfect persimmon

Permutation perfect preposition pretend pyromaniac

Priam pretend Plato pretend pomp plz pentameter

Pretend perfect play plumage plz psychedelic plz

Plural plethora polyphonic polymorphous

Polyunsaturated phat pregnant plz peridot

Pandora plz pantheon paradox parallax plz

Paris panties Paris pants-less pearly

Pathos passé peach patriarchy pupil

Plz p-nis peach pen peach penance p-nis

Plz Pan palindrome pencil paean plz

Pencil pagan pencil pretty petty pets pure

Pencil phallus pencil phantom pencil purr

Phantasmagoria pharaoh philodendron

Phoenix phonics photosynthesis pheromone pi

Piano pi pitch pi plague pi poem pi poison

Pi pollen pi pomegranate pi Poseidon pi

Porno porpoise postmortem postmodern potato

Possessed prig possessed prep possessed prince

Possessed porcupine positron power PTSD1

Power powder power prayer power prism power prophet

Power promise Prometheus plz pussy pussy pussy




1 Post traumatic stress disorder, prowl Tarzan shirtless demigod, primal treacherous spirits dancing



 Chris Philpot

Occupations of Uninhabited Space


Can a cemetery ever be new?  I’m asking

for a friend.  Let’s say you have two horses.

Let’s say one of them is a cow.  How

do you reconcile capitalism and beauty?

I don’t.  I crown all of my possessions

with a magnificent pair of antlers.  I come

to the conclusion that the world doesn’t need

more points.  I don’t wear a monocle.

My monocle wears me!  One

of the sweetest things you can say

to a person is that you see them.  I see you.

I see you.  Then ShhhhhhDid you hear that?

The radioactive wolves are howling.

Even in Chernobyl, they long for Chernobyl.



Benjamin Palmer

Breakfast with the Scavengers


“There’ll be no hope for any of us until

we accept that transcendence to a supreme good

is attainable here on Earth,” said the hyena

through a mouthful of baby gazelle. “You’re right

of course,” replied the vulture, tearing off

a chunk of tender belly flesh with his talons.

“Until we trust that this is paradise,

and that we each belong here equally, none

of us will ever live to our absolute potential.”

The hyena sighed. “It would be so much easier

without Old Misery Guts stomping about.

He is such a bad influence on the more

impressionable animals.” “Oh, he’s useless!

He’s known this stuff for years, yet persists

in peddling his preposterous tales. A bloodier

minded creature you will not find.” “I guess

some folks are just born perverse,” said the hyena,

and coughed up a sliver of rib bone. “Too true,

too true,” answered the vulture. “But come, we

mustn’t get ourselves down. Beat you to the heart!”

“Ha!” cried the hyena. And the race was on.



Dave Rutschman

The Exact Thing


Lucy was driving me around.  We had nowhere to go.  It was January.  Her car’s heat had busted and the white clouds of our breath fogged the windshield.  We had to keep rolling the windows down.

“Did you ever think that chattering teeth are like rows of birds crashing into the ground?” I asked, and she ignored me.  We were pretty high.

The airplane materialized right there above us:  the lights along its wings and body, the individual lit-up windows.  It was freshly washed and painted, dropping fast.  It was tilted at a strange angle.  We pulled over to the curb.

“We need to pray for them,” Lucy said, lacing her fingers together.  She didn’t look at me.

The plane kept sinking until it went out of sight, and I waited for the sky to explode, sirens and flames, the moaning of emergency vehicles.  “Here it comes,” I shouted, pumping my fist.  “Here it comes, yeah!”  Lucy was whispering under her breath.

Nothing happened.

“Yeah,” I said again.

Later I realized that we’d been over by the airport.  But we didn’t know that then, so it counts.  For each of us, the exact thing we did counts.






Kiki Petrosino



Journal, mixtape, leather coat.

Silk scarf painted with caducei.

Lunapark, broom flowers, ferryboat.

Ticket stub: Autobus 25.


Birthstone anklet, white Peugeot.

Journal, mixtape, leather coat.

Perseid shower, bear paw charm.

Lunapark, broom flowers, ferryboat.


Thumb ring, tank top, lucky coin.

Birthstone anklet, white Peugeot.

Pasta sciuta, freckled arms.

Perseid shower, bear paw charm.


Campfire, windsurf, sudden wine.

Thumb ring, tank top, lucky coin.

Olive orchard, sunflower farm.

Pasta sciuta, freckled arms.