New York Tyrant

excerpt from WELFARE
by Steve Anwyll

Giancarlo DiTrapano

Comments 1

excerpt from WELFARE <br>by Steve Anwyll<br>

I probably remind my old man of the woman he lost. So maybe that's why I always feel like I don't belong. And why he gives me so much space. I don’t know if it’s that that made me distant. Independent. But what I am sure of is that it makes leaving pretty easy. 

In fact. I've been thinking about it for years. But where do I go? And how do I pay for food? So I've had to wait. Until after my 16th birthday. When the fighting with my dad's new wife gets to be too much. I just pack my bags. 

And when I come through the kitchen. Shes standing there. She asks me where I think I'm going. I tell her the fuck out of here. That I can't take it anymore. That she's had it out for me since the day she moved in. Scared that I might remind my father of what he used to have. 

Poem For A New Year
by Kelly Schirmann

Jordan Castro

People like to talk about the year ending

like it’s old fruit you can just toss out

Something that’ll decompose naturally

and painlessly into your yard


This is Western Thought at its finest

To hold something in your palm

and entertain the illusion

that you either need it or you don't

Road Rage
by Scott McClanahan

Jordan Castro

I was doing a lot better with my road rage. One day Chris and I were coming back from the store and I hadn’t even called anyone “Fucker” or “Look at that stupid motherfucker” or “Fucking move it buddy.”  I wasn’t flipping anybody off or shaking my fist or talking about how the whole earth needed a new extinction.  “Who cares about saving the earth.  I thought the purpose of life was to destroy it.” I wasn’t making sweeping generalizations about entire groups of people or shouting insane shit.  Of course, Chris usually never let me drive when we went someplace, but he seemed to notice how calm I was today.

excerpt of Bandit
by Molly Brodak

Jordan Castro

14 My first memory happened on a stairwell, and stairwells have had special resonance as meaningful sites for me ever since. I was three years old, maybe. The stairs were wide and thin, the kind with no back to the steps, just floating slats. It was sunny and the room was white and yellow, the stairwell of an apartment building. Mom was ahead of me, on the steps above, holding paper bags of groceries in both arms. I fell. I was belly down on the steps, and I could see through the emptiness behind and under us. I can see...

Four Poems by
Alex Mussawir

Jordan Castro


Emily says she would probably pee on another person during sex
but would not let the other person pee on her
and I tell her I’ve always felt that the person’s diet
seems important when thinking about it
and we make eye contact briefly
while crossing Hudson street

The sun is out
a few piles of snow remain from winter, pushed against the sidewalks
and I watch Emily begin to hold her sweater differently,
this time by draping it over her right forearm

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