technical element introduced in the 1948 Olympics,
the woman hovers smoothly, levitates, you recall your
last time ice skating solo, a snow day impulse,
memories of watching the rink below,
walks in the park with your lover, your affianced,
freedom of being lonely, difficulty of partnering,
how in the death spiral the woman arches her back,
she circles the man’s skates smoothly,
there are four death spiral variants, a skill you wish you had,
to survive entanglement, to remain entangled,
to come off the ice triumphant, hand-in-hand
Bringing My Mother Along
Once I ran from the house
to hide from her
another time, punished, wrote on my bedroom
dresser’s side how I hated her.
What did I know? Nothing,
and less even than that.
Now I bring her with me wherever I go,
holding her hand that she may be safe.
Nora Rawn works in subrights in publishing and lives in Brooklyn. She has had pieces published or forthcoming in Dodo Eraser, Dreck Lit, Be About It Press, Electric Pink, Tap Into Poetry, Burial Magazine, Some Words, and Michigan City Review of Books. She spends too much time on twitter under @norabird.
Got too high and started imagining the kids I’m gonna have
I don’t usually think about the future of people that aren’t me
But I could see them
They weren’t much, just little scenes
unwashed kid hair and sticky breath
and myself, old, rounder
For my daughter
who had a stupid name her mom picked out
like Evangeline
I dreamed about saying I wouldn’t just love her but
would always give her the benefit of the doubt
the way boys don’t do with their women
And for my son
who was perfect
and named something big and sweet and dumb
that I got to choose
I just thought about all the baseball players
I want him to know were great
Henry Luzzatto is a Brooklyn-based writer and musician. Originally from a swamp in Virginia, his work is featured in The Baffler, body fluids, ExPat Press, and more.
“When am I going to do what?” she responded, laying a card carefully on the dining room table where she was playing Solitaire.
“When are you going to kill yourself?” Susan glanced at him warily.
“I have no desire to kill myself.”
“But you need to,” replied Lenny. “After all, it was you who had the affair and ruined my name in this town.”
“Your name!” Susan screeched, slapping the card she held onto the table. “What about my name? Not only have you trashed me to my friends, you went to every bar in town talking about me, trying to get sympathy, but all they did was laugh at you.” Lenny kicked a small trash can over.
“I would never have done that if you had been a faithful wife.”
“But the affair was over five years ago,” she reminded him.
“So I heard,” he retorted, but it’s new to me.” Susan stood, ready to leave the room.
“You shouldn’t have listened to my former lover’s new girlfriend when she called here trying to make trouble.”
“Oh, is that so? When I asked you if it was true, I expected you to lie, but now I know you told the truth about everything.”
“Yes, I did,” she replied. “You should be man enough to let it go.”
“I will NEVER let it go!” he roared. “You should die.” Susan ran into the bedroom and locked the door. Lenny had been this way ever since he found out about Susan’s affair. She felt like throttling the hussy who called her home and demanded Susan come talk with her about Susan’s former lover. Susan had refused, and the woman informed Lenny. None of this would have happened if the man she gave her heart to had kept his mouth shut.
Susan became a pariah in the town where she lived. Everywhere she went she could hear snide remarks behind her back. Leering men made obscene gestures. She was forced to shop two towns over so as not to be seen by anyone she knew.
Lenny was not innocent. He backhanded Susan for the slightest thing she did wrong, even before her confession about being unfaithful. She often went to work wearing dark glasses because of a black eye. As a receptionist at an insurance company, she had to be presentable. It was hard to hide a cut lip or swollen, bruised face. Her boss threatened to fire her if she didn’t leave Lenny. She had no place to go, no children, no family. No one cared what happened to her.
Lenny hung around her work place, often waiting for her at the ground floor of the elevator when she got off work. His face in a perpetual sneer, he would inquire as to when she would commit suicide. He decided he wanted to be present when it happened. Susan told him not to worry. She would make sure he was there if she did it.
She wondered what Lenny would do if she did kill herself. She was the only one who worked. Lenny was a dead-beat who never lifted a hand to do anything except drink and play video games. Their marriage had gone steadily downhill. She wished she had never met him.
She also wished he would see a therapist or mental health worker. Of course, anyone would be upset if a spouse cheated, but Lenny went too far. The torment had been going on for a year. Lenny began suggesting various places for Susan to kill herself. He wanted her to shoot herself in their flower garden, but she said that would disturb the neighbors. There were too many parents with children at the city park. No, she would not go there. But she was thinking of ending her life more and more. What did she have to live for anyway? Lenny’s constant barrage of hatred and ridicule were causing her a great deal of depression and despair. Because of trauma Susan had been eating more. She was a big woman before, but now she topped three hundred pounds, something else for Lenny to make nasty remarks about.
At last Susan decided to do what Lenny wanted. When it happened, Lenny was
there just as she had promised. As he was walking past the building where Susan worked,
she jumped from her office window on the twelfth floor and landed squarely on his ugly
head.
LaVern Spencer McCarthy, has published eight books of poetry and four books of short stories plus three journals. Her poems have been published in Visions International, Poetry Society of Texas Book of The Year, Open Skies Quarterly, National Federation of State Poetry Society’s Encore, Austin Poetry Society’s Austin’s Best Poets, A Texas Garden of Verses and numerous state anthologies and newspaper columns. Her poem, October’s Agenda was nominated for the Pushcart Award in 2023.
as a snake vestures itself in foliage biding for prey
Finally the homecoming
Streets filled with petals laughter song
Expectant women scan the victors for their sons
hope ebbing & absconding
She sees him argentine mightier than she remembers
feels an unwelcome stab of tenderness like self-violation
On the carriage next to him her daughter alive
tears pulsating threads of red dancing in the wind
He gleams godlike within the conglomeration
closer closer— She realizes his trick:
the girl foreign not her own
Fury intensifies within her seizes her by the throat
resolve floods her gut like semen
She bids him into the tyrian river beguiling
the bowels of the butcherhouse
House ghosts nab at his feet salivating for vengeance
he wades on blind as a god to silent suffering
For ten years he has cheated death as it caressed him unknowingly
thinks himself inviolable on par with the deathless gods
But her prayers have been steadfast inerrant
& Death is generous & heeding
She spinals the blade
hones her resolve into promise:
the moonfall will see him dead
a.d. is drawn to the sacred, the profane, the mysterious and the mythological, which provides inspiration for her work. She is an award-nominated bisexual poet, writer, and visual artist, with words published in HAD, Blood+Honey, MCRB, REDAMANCY Mag, God’s Cruel Joke, HAWKEYE, and elsewhere.Meanwhile, her visual art, mainly photography and self-portraiture, is featured in Hominum Journal, Occulum, RESURRECTION Mag, Antler Velvet, Bleating Thing and other outlets. Tumblr & Twitter: @godstained
guns, glass, hate. Won’t stop shooting, biting, spitting out
splintered heads they don’t want to swallow.
Lacerated tongues which
can no longer speak.
Stuffed animal lair only
allows meat eating breeds
filled with contracting, contractual, expanding killer teeth.
Dialect of smashed windows
dragging you away.
Intrusive Obsession
Hiding in the background, then quietly limping to the side
of my peripheral vision, then suddenly racing towards my headspace.
Screaming internally then constricting
my throat with heaves and gasps and
compulsions, every membrane screaming
obsessive images about how men are looking
at creampie dripping down younger women’s thighs and I’m a boring middle aged woman his age
with saggy breasts and a heart instead of just an opening
aimed to explode in his face.
Like a Ouija board strobe light inside
my brain, this obsession won’t stop
until my head splatters.
Invisible Ink
Possible poem lines emerge in bed,
in the midst of what seems like a semi-dream/
semi-reality state, followed by internal glitch
in which a semi-truck aims to run over
my new lines or my entire head.
I thought I had managed
to temporarily sit up and
write down my impending words, but
the first pen was devoid of ink.
The second pen spit a thin drizzle
of almost invisible blood,
which soon disappeared.
When I awoke, nothing new
was on the page. Had my words ever been there
at all? I could no longer remember the words which had felt like they were writing themselves
inside my semi-invisible brain.
Perhaps it was just an illusion.
The bedside table was loaded
with hundreds of sheets of paper,
repetitive to-do lists. But no poetry.
My new lines must have been thrown away or swallowed or trapped inside the dream or else
never fully existed.
I re-entered real life,
viewed the latest news, saw death, murder, evil
worse than nightmares. Part of me wished I was still stuck in a dream. If I look away, am I acting like another dead body is invisible ink?
Juliet Cook doesn’t fit inside an Easy-Bake Oven and rarely cooks. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. She is the author of numerous poetry chapbooks, most recently including “red flames burning out” (Grey Book Press, 2023), “Contorted Doom Conveyor” (Gutter Snob Books, 2023), “Your Mouth is Moving Backwards” (Ethel Zine & Micro Press, 2023), “REVOLTING” (Cul-de-sac of Blood, 2024), and “Blue Stingers Instead of Wings” (Pure Sleeze Press, 2025). Her most recent full-length poetry book, “Malformed Confetti” was published by Crisis Chronicles Press. You can find out more at https://julietcook.weebly.com/.
in air thick with lack of light deep stink of hot mammal
and stabbing breath
looped like my passage through this space
what is it we fear when images come to mind
do we sense something that inhabits rooms and woodlands
beyond exhalation
under duress
my door ceases to be mine
I crumple into an apology the bedsheets are too clean for me
when the human beast arrives it hunkers down and won’t budge
remembering the man gone mad asleep
clubbing his family to death
James Knight is a poet, artist, performer and publisher based in the UK. Publications include Cosmic Horror (Hem Press), Rites & Passages (Salò Press), Machine (Trickhouse Press) and Void Voices (Hesterglock Press). Website: www.thebirdking.com. Bluesky: @badbadpoet. Instagram: @jkbirdking.
of midnight, your ironed shirt, clover-patterned pants
sitting angular at the edge of a conceptual stare,
a concrete floor, iron bed-sit, installation.
Being, the notion of prayer,
or, in waiting at an abutment outside the Mudd Club
or somewhere else , in another outfit,
I remember your troweled performance on a couch
in the sprung rhythms of acid house.
Such memories / walk / me waking
forward
to specular lipstick on pale skin,
circular meridians drawn in cups
from a river.
To tie red hemp rope around your
waist, tautly hold down your thigh
to hook beneath the back of knees
for levitation, a shuddering radio static
meeting clustered mind, gathering up
in suspension’s glove for inertia. We ache
in de-evolution towards ancestors, the
awesome incisive markings, spine of
your bridge, arched, offering, gravity-less
spectral juxtapositions: wigs / wraps,
buttoned / in collated
collars; marginalia /collective sighing of electric
guitars in process /a novel /
pages with annotations, yes, without
you we are in for a long triage.
Hand over hand, climbing over
indelicate industrial clamor, unrolling
typewriter ribbons to erase propaganda broadsheets / smear
the news and various
other kinds of puppeteer topographies /
with spilled black ink blood.
Wandering / steps behind a
procession. At the parade grounds of immolation,
we sit on our knees, for hours / Try to
stand up straight with
a wishbone lodged in the prism of
your throat, already broken, outmaneuvered /
we were plates of glass, shattered
fragments, separated from everything.
Sometimes /planes take off from here,
on time. Even cauliflower
softens in the pan. You were once
serenaded by electricity volts, hand-held by numbers
of your fans who came to see you perform.
(new stanza)
Now / (note): I serenade your memory.
Dictate stenographic emblems
to exposed toes. I
want to shake in crescendo, howling
in a complicated realm of teeth.
Programmed noise for synthetic generative
chatter.
Titled, Music # 4: It is /
so cold outside. Never forgot
your urgency /
The predilection / to wander.
Robert Frede Kenter is a widely published writer, visual artist, performer, & publisher of Ice Floe Press (www.icefloepress.net) with work in over 200 publications published or forthcoming including: Watch Your Head, Harpy Hybrid, ballast, winged moon, ABR, storms journal, heavy feathers, petrichor, Cable Street, Burning House, Pissoir, Lost & Found Times, Blood & Honey, Otoliths, Paragraph, The Prose Poem Journal etc.. In Anthologies incl: Capitalism is a Death Cult (Sunday Mornings at the River), Speaking in Tongues (Steel Incisors), The Book of Penteract (Penteract Press). Interpoem 1 & 2 (Sedserio), Glisk and Glimmer (Sidhe Press). Select books: Moon Writing (with Catherine Graham) (Ice Floe Press, 2026), In the Blueprint of Her Iris (with Vikki C) (Ice Floe Press, 2025), Father Tectonic (Ethel Zine, 2025), Audacity of Form (Ice Floe Press, 2019). Robert was guest editor of Secrets and Lies (July, 2019) at Burning House Press and has lots of other projects on the go. Soc media X: @frede_kenter, IG: icefloe22, r.f.k.vispocityshuffle, Bluesky: @rfredekenter.bsky.social.
Sara Matson (she/her) is a poet in Chicago and host of the seasonal online reading series Words // Friends. Her poems can be found in Discount Guillotine, Kicking Your Ass, The Chicago Reader and elsewhere. Her favorite color is lime green and you can find her on Instagram @skeletorsmom and Blue Sky @saramatson.bsky.social.
I remembered how Leni Riefenstahl attached automatic cameras to balloons.
I want to fall in love
with a blind flower girl
who mistakes me
for a millionaire.
Even the Automobiles Here Seem to Be Ancient
Dear Cinnette, I grew tired of the world
at the Braintree split
but there’s no shepherdess in sight
the ice floes on the Merrimack look like wounded angels
Dear Cinnette, the sun’s fixed stare expresses something beyond death
I’m letting my beard grow
Let’s just say
your period
is the ultimate form of punctuation
Which one of your phone calls changed my life fuck
it
I’m raising a toast to Odin
and the beauty of Japanese volcanoes
Last I heard you hitched a ride to Salt Lake
O Madonna
of the Trail—
Dear Cinnette, Infinite Jest turned 30
Sabalenka was penalized for a midpoint grunt
I saw a woman at Stop & Stop
buying avocados
like it’s 2010
I heard Thom bit off a prostitute’s toe in Prague
I’m high on benzos godspark
Dear Cinnette Il faut être absolument modern
Did you know in 1955
Friehofer’s still used horse drawn carts
to deliver baked goods in Schenectady—
Imagine if your whole job was putting cherries on cupcakes
Imagine if our midpoint grunt went on forever.
Dobermann
If you said all I do is write love poems
I’d say I’m solving the crisis of panty lines
but that’s just another comedy
for our conspiracy
theory
age
Again the snow is scatterbrained
millions of individual
amens
and I’m thinking
about the time
we had sex at the Tate Modern
If you said it was like a love poem
featuring Rouveyre’s car and several Soviet bikers
I’d say
look at the charm of the industrial streets.
Fun is a steel bath in Mitteleuropa,
your tongue like a menacing dobermann.
MALMO
it feels very intimate, very private
being an author and a character simultaneously
like a crowd of people
at the beach
screaming shark! Shark!
Quite unlike the Oulipians
who organize their internet novels
by color
fake barn country
the IKEA back catalogue.
Dear Cinnette,
I prefer the dark arts
“So we shall take the train here to MALMO,
then get into the car
and drive home to our house,
and all the way I shall revel in,
truly revel in”
how we used to smoke
in bed on Sundays
and read The Boston Globe,
Akhmatova, Letters to a Young Poet,
the cat purring like
a bloom of chocolate,
mirrors caressing the room
and the sense of things
careening
towards
a head
still a long
way
off
like a seizure
on a boat
in the middle of the sea
Damon Hubbs is a poet from New England. His latest collection, Bullet Pudding, is forthcoming from Roadside Press in 2026. Recent publications include Horror Sleaze Trash, Apocalypse Confidential, Be About It Press, Revolution John, The Literary Underground, RESSURECTION magazine, and others. His poems have been nominated for the Pushcart and Best of the Net. He is a poetry editor at Blood+Honey and The Argyle Literary Magazine. bluesky: @hubbsd.bsky.social
Burning House Press are excited to welcome Matthew Kinlin as the fifth BHP guest editor of our return series of special editions! As of today Matt will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the month of December.
Submissions are open from today 1st December – and will remain open until 21st DECEMBER.
Matt’s theme for the month is as follows
My Heart Is Empty: Responses to The Life and Work of Nico
Matthew Kinlin lives and writes in Glasgow. His published workst include Teenage Hallucination (Orbis Tertius Press, 2021); Curse Red, Curse Blue, Curse Green (Sweat Drenched Press, 2021); The Glass Abattoir (D.F.L. Lit, 2023); Songs of Xanthina (Broken Sleep Books, 2023); Psycho Viridian (Broken Sleep Books, 2024) and So Tender a Killer (Filthy Loot, 2025). Instagram: @obscene_mirror.
——
Submission Guidelines
All submissions should be sent as attachments to guesteditorbhp@gmail.com
Please state the theme and form of your submission in the subject of the email. For example: NICO/POETRY
Poetry and Fiction
For poetry submissions, submit no more than three of your best poems. Short stories should be limited to 1,500 words or (preferably) less. We encourage flash fiction submissions, no more than three at a time. Send these in as a .doc or .docx file, along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Art Submit hi-res images of your works (drawings, paintings, illustrations, collages, photography, etc) with descriptions of the work (Title, Year, Medium, etc) in the body of the email. Files should be in .JPEG unless they are GIFs or videos, and should not exceed 2MB in size for each work. File names should correspond with the work titles. Video submissions can be uploaded onto Youtube or Vimeo for feature on our website. Send these submissions along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Virtual Reality/ 3D Artworks
For VR Submissions, please submit no more than three (3) individual artworks. For Tilt Brush works, please upload your artwork to Google Poly (https://poly.google.com/), and mark it as ‘public’ (‘remixable’ is at your own preference). A VR/3D artwork can also be submitted as a video export navigating through the artwork. If you prefer this method, please upload your finished video file to YouTube or Vimeo and provide a URL. With either format, please provide a 150 word artist’s statement.
Non-fiction Non-fiction submissions (essays, reviews, commentary, interviews, etc) should be no more than 1, 500 words and sent as a .doc or .docx file along with your third-person bio/and optional photograph.
Submissions are open until 21st December – and will reopen again on 1st January 2026/for new theme/new editor/s.
BHP online is now in the capable hands of the amazing Matthew Kinlin – friends, arsonistas, send our December 2025 guest editor your magic!
Burning House Press are excited to welcome C.C. O’HANLON as the fifth BHP guest editor of our return series of special editions! As of today C.C. will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the month of November.
Submissions are open from today 1st November – and will remain open until 25TH November.
C.C.’s theme for the month is as follows
—JOURNEYS
~~~
JOURNEYS: Physical, Psychological, and Imaginary, embracing words and images, in all forms, as well as complexity, resisting the superficial, algorithmic narratives of social media.
~~~
Photo by Given Rozell.
~~~
A self-described ‘vagabond, diarist, and wreck’, C.C. O’Hanlon’s fragmentary memoirs have been published in various anthologies, including Best Australian Essays 2005 and Best Australian Stories 2004 (both published by Black Inc, Australia), A Revealed Life: Australian Writers And Their Journeys In Memoir (ABC Books, Australia), The Odysseum: Strange Journeys That Obliterated Convention (John Murray, U.K.), Zahir: Desire & Eclipse (Zeno Press, U.K.), and Dark Ocean (Dark Mountain Project, U.K.). A founding features editor of Harper’ Bazaar Australia in the late ’80s, his mainstream journalism and images have appeared in The New York Times, The Sydney Morning Herald, Variety, Travel & Leisure, the Australian editions of Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar and scores of other newspapers and magazines.
He now lives a nomadic life with his American wife of 38 years aboard a small, sea-worn old sailboat named Wrack in the southern Mediterranean. They have three adult children.
_______
Submission Guidelines
All submissions should be sent as attachments to guesteditorbhp@gmail.com
Please state the theme and form of your submission in the subject of the email. For example: JOURNEYS/POETRY
Poetry and Fiction
For poetry submissions, submit no more than three of your best poems. Short stories should be limited to 1,500 words or (preferably) less. We encourage flash fiction submissions, no more than three at a time. Send these in as a .doc or .docx file, along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Art Submit hi-res images of your works (drawings, paintings, illustrations, collages, photography, etc) with descriptions of the work (Title, Year, Medium, etc) in the body of the email. Files should be in .JPEG unless they are GIFs or videos, and should not exceed 2MB in size for each work. File names should correspond with the work titles. Video submissions can be uploaded onto Youtube or Vimeo for feature on our website. Send these submissions along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Virtual Reality/ 3D Artworks
For VR Submissions, please submit no more than three (3) individual artworks. For Tilt Brush works, please upload your artwork to Google Poly (https://poly.google.com/), and mark it as ‘public’ (‘remixable’ is at your own preference). A VR/3D artwork can also be submitted as a video export navigating through the artwork. If you prefer this method, please upload your finished video file to YouTube or Vimeo and provide a URL. With either format, please provide a 150 word artist’s statement.
Non-fiction Non-fiction submissions (essays, reviews, commentary, interviews, etc) should be no more than 1, 500 words and sent as a .doc or .docx file along with your third-person bio/and optional photograph.
Submissions are open until 25th November – and will reopen again on 1st DECEMBER 2025/for new theme/new editor/s.
BHP online is now in the capable hands of the amazing C.C. – friends, arsonistas, send our NOVEMBER 2025 guest editor your magic!
Burning House Press are excited to welcome Alexander Booth as the fourth BHP guest editor of our return series of special editions! As of today Alexander will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the month of September.
Submissions are open from today 1st September – and will remain open until 25TH SEPTEMBER.
Alexander’s theme/s for the month are as follows
—LANDSCAPE
LABYRINTH—
Black Square and Red Square by Kazmir Malevich
_____
LANDSCAPE // LABYRINTH
*
When the painter’s friends, however, looked around for the painter, they saw that he was gone—that he was in the picture. There, he followed the little path that led to the door, paused before it quite still, turned, smiled, and disappeared through the narrow opening.
– Walter Benjamin, Berlin Childhood around 1900 (trans. Howard Eiland)
*
Each one of us, then, should speak of his roads, his crossroads, his roadside benches; each one of us should make a surveyor’s map of his lost fields and meadows.
Gaston Bachelard (trans. Maria Jolas)
*
“Though Minos blocks escape by land or water,”
Daedalus said, “surely the sky is open,
And that’s the way we’ll go. Minos’ dominion
Does not include the air.”
– Ovid, Metamorphosis (trans. Rolfe Humphries)
_____
Alexander Booth is a poet, translator, collage artist and printmaker who lives in Berlin. Recent translations include books by Friederike Mayröcker, Alexander Kluge, Gerhard Rühm, and a new translation of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. His collection of poems Triptych was published in 2021 and Kantor in 2023.
__________
Submission Guidelines
All submissions should be sent as attachments to guesteditorbhp@gmail.com
Please state the theme and form of your submission in the subject of the email. For example: LANDSCAPE/POETRY Or LABYRINTH/FICTION
Poetry and Fiction
For poetry submissions, submit no more than three of your best poems. Short stories should be limited to 1,500 words or (preferably) less. We encourage flash fiction submissions, no more than three at a time. Send these in as a .doc or .docx file, along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Art Submit hi-res images of your works (drawings, paintings, illustrations, collages, photography, etc) with descriptions of the work (Title, Year, Medium, etc) in the body of the email. Files should be in .JPEG unless they are GIFs or videos, and should not exceed 2MB in size for each work. File names should correspond with the work titles. Video submissions can be uploaded onto Youtube or Vimeo for feature on our website. Send these submissions along with a short third-person bio, and (optional) photograph of yourself.
Virtual Reality/ 3D Artworks
For VR Submissions, please submit no more than three (3) individual artworks. For Tilt Brush works, please upload your artwork to Google Poly (https://poly.google.com/), and mark it as ‘public’ (‘remixable’ is at your own preference). A VR/3D artwork can also be submitted as a video export navigating through the artwork. If you prefer this method, please upload your finished video file to YouTube or Vimeo and provide a URL. With either format, please provide a 150 word artist’s statement.
Non-fiction Non-fiction submissions (essays, reviews, commentary, interviews, etc) should be no more than 1, 500 words and sent as a .doc or .docx file along with your third-person bio/and optional photograph.
Submissions are open until 25th SEPTEMBER – and will reopen again on 1st OCTOBER 2025/for new theme/new editor/s.
BHP online is now in the capable hands of the amazing Alexander Booth – friends, arsonistas, send our SEPTEMBER 2025 guest editor your magic!
BURNING HOUSE PRESS 