ISSUE I

We are thrilled to publish the first issue of Abandon Journal (Summer 2021), featuring fiction, poetry, nonfiction, flash, visual art, photography, and of course, the elusive “Abandon Form.” Enjoy!
First

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

Alan Rickman and the Mermaids of the Conch Republic

Sound engineers believe Alan Rickman possessed the perfect male voice. Early acting teachers told him he sounded like he was speaking from the back of a drainpipe.

Several someones

a folksome, gruesome opera
of gauze and malcontent.

oh Manifesto

The collective
failure
of ethical standards

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

Soft Porn and Cuban Pine

It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.

Rose By Any Other Name

Kate Winslet always reminded me of my mom. Maybe that’s why, even to this day, I get defensive of Rose from Titanic when people call her stupid or shallow…

Condolences

my friends’ fathers are
dropping
I mean dying
like flies

Teeth and Boyfriends

With great reluctance, I agree to meet a cousin for an outside lunch…

Dead History

Another image rises to us both: A man hunched before a TV, watching historical documentaries, correcting incorrect facts. Rasputin was not a priest, damn it.

The Bird That Carried One Hundred Messages To America

At the end of the meeting, the villagers agreed to contribute shillings and pounds to sponsor Elochi to a university in America.

Evan

The young boy goes to bed and kisses his mother goodnight. He goes to bed and closes his eyes and wishes his family good sleep.

Smile.

At twenty, the world is yours because you’re beautiful. But never acknowledge your beauty, or it makes you a bitch.

REVENGE SCENE

Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.

Cost of Care

I reached for my invoice, which Dr. George, holding it between thumb and forefinger as if it were a soiled diaper, dropped into my hand.

What Did I Mention To Ya?

Ever since your son brought you here, things have been different. He was crying when he dropped you off. You still don’t know why.

Street Photography

With my camera, I give and receive love.

i do not want to wait until it’s too late

the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.

The Rupture

Before the headaches began, I thought myself sturdy: firm in my foundations, set square like a saltbox house.

You can’t make them love you, no matter how artfully you betray yourself

Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.

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