Thanks for submitting to Abandon Journal. Please feel free to read some of our work, or support us by buying some merch

We look forward to reviewing your work.

The Previously Abandoned

  • All
  • Abandon Form
  • Fiction
  • Flash
  • Issue 1
  • Issue 2
  • Issue 3
  • Nonfiction
  • Poetry
  • Visual Art

Post Pregnancy Examination (Shortened Form)

Infant’s Name: A
Delivery Date: August 1, 2002

, , ,

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

, ,

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.


Time Travel

I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.


Welcome To The House of Static

here is the sky in stop motion, flickering,
a still shot in monochrome



I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster


Storm Over Pacific

A reflection on a place that is inherently hostile to humans.


The Cycle

It all started with the curse of my tits. Women’s bodies are cursed. Everyone tries to look at them, everyone tries to ignore them.

, ,

Point Pleasant

Hitting up homes peopled by those with nothing much to lose was an easy score. The less you had, the less likely you were to defend it. But this home was different. Its residents had a lot to lose and the will to fight for it.


Teeth and Boyfriends

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

, ,


We drifted junk with a sledgehammer looking for juice. Sometimes the rage.

, ,

Feast Of

anger, like you can sink teeth into, candy apple


Your Glass Mouth

A tortured simper uncoils itself across my mouth as I open another bottle of Penis wine.


Hide & Woman Begs With Child

Adrienne Christian is a poet, writer, and fine art photographer.


Mom, in Her Dementia, Steals Oranges

and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub
at the Assisted Living Place


On the Night Row-Houses Across the Street Catch Fire

You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.


Street Photography

With my camera, I give and receive love.


I Garden at the Edge of Autumn

There is so little left of the tomato plants.