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The Previously Abandoned

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

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.

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Ode To the Dove Pt. VI (Avrom Sutzkever)

Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.

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There is an alternative universe

Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth,
cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.

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Patriarchy U.

what ur female protagonist needs is for some guy to beat the shit out of her…

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A Way of Seeing

Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.

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Black Ghosts of Ponderosa on a Silhouette of Hill

Even as the sun warms the concrete
the long nights’ sensual cold lingers in my clothes.

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Electric Eels, Finishing School, Teeth

Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.

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Your Family (Search) History

No matter how you try to ignore it, you look like him. You look like your father.

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Chronic Pain Is An Invisible Disease

This series is a response to a health diagnosis, trigeminal neuralgia and thoracic outlet syndrome, from a major mid-Atlantic hospital after a several year journey through chronic pain.

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Clueless & Briefly Gorgeous

I buy too much, for someone of my stature.
could pawn a skinny metaphor to purchase a plump skin.
its reputed in our lineage— to daydream a life that shreds our pockets.

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Theoretical Debate

On the first day of our new life together, my husband realized that I was not interested in theoretical debate. He said it was okay by him and went out to get some pancake mix.

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Teeth and Boyfriends

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

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Demolition

I feel somewhat bad about using the death of my father as an excuse to prolong my trip.

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Crossing the Square

My dad was an inveterate theatergoer in the old country where theatre reigned supreme before the Soviets, under the Soviets, after the Soviets.

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Welcome To The House of Static

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

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An Endeavor of Being Now

We stop doing dishes while
a mile unwinds
from the tree outside.

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Greetings From Baja California!

Sitting at the bar on Pacific Avenue. With the seashells in the walls. Same bartender from last year, still here, making the same lethal Mai Tais.

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Junk

It was spring and the hills were irradient, like they had to get out all their green in one short burst before catching fire.

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