new writing 2024

“unprocessed thoughts” by Bach Le

NEW POETRY

photo c/o dogsaddict

why is that dog biting its owner is it the chains and ropes that pull the shepherd to a suicidal thought or is it the man that harasses his friend to test if he can manipulate the docility of an animal but look the blood is pouring out like droplets of watercolor paints that used to impregnate my xs-sized tee and now it’s there but only darker and sadder i would laugh my stomach out when red pours out because it’s a dumb mistake but now why is the dog so unhesitant and merciless towards its owner the old man that walks it everyday cares for it baths it in the pouring rain despite his asthma and gives it a little bow in its chest is it tamed is it a disguised wolf why is it now lying on the floor growling rolling screaming and the man is running with crimson traces in his route and something in his hand like a folded story he wants no one to know about?

Bach Le is currently living and studying in Hanoi, Vietnam. His poems have previously been in Synchronized Chaos, Haikuniverse, and more. Through poetry, Bach hopes to give voice to different issues in society, as well as showing his attitudes towards life with its various dimensions.



An Excerpt from “Vacation Home” by Andrew Arasimowicz

NEW FICTION ALERT

I could hear the storm outside in the night. But a crack in the fire told me I Am Here, and I remained on the couch. Warm. Safe. Secure. At last with my privacy.

I was in that blissful state of living with my mind dead when the knocking began. It took me a bit to come back here. To debt, betrayal, and aging. I thought it was either a tree branch or dumb animal at first. Banging against the front from the wind or instinct.

The continued knocking corrected me. And it just grew louder, refusing to follow any rhythm to let me nod back to daydreams. It was a noise outside my peace. And I could only grumble in anger. Did not this would-be Voorhees know how much I suffered? Did he not know how much I needed this little away from it all? Here I was; finally enjoying the solitude I’d been planning for months, and in the peace of near slumber comes this KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

COMING SOON to New Pop Lit!

“Ad Break” by Haoyi Zhang

SHORT PROSE

The coffee-toffee-caramel of my hot liquid handwarm looks luscious. It is also the exact same hex-code shade as the last nub of supermarket mudcake, resting on an A4 exercise book receipt book book book poetry books to-do list book tower on desk. I gnaw and gobble at both, sticky fingers returning to the clacker palette.

It is the witching hour, ideal for tickling my muses. Beyond my window sash, distant cicadas float in the black pool of night.

This is an appreciation letter to all the owly writers chained to their desks: your lit mag publications will fill up your bios but not your growling hearts (or egos). Get yourself a friend not for listening to you air your novel ideas or read at that gross anarchist bookstore, no. Someone who likes talking to people at the park, believes life is good and yes, helps you unclench so the words finally start flowing from your lips.

Touch grass. Get stung by a wasp. Bite the sun.

Haoyi Zhang is a reluctant student at FASS USyd and hopes to poem good for Cordite one-time this livin’. Drag them out for kebab + walks. Off all socials except Discord: @open_far