Two Poems

    Featured

    Featured

    Two Poems

    Kyo Padgett

    We, an odd momentary / ouroboros in Florida light...

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    Poetry

    Dahlias

    Brigit Young·
    i left new york and started growing dahlias. / they don’t mean much. just patience burst / in the yard...
    Short Story

    The Line

    Tessa Yang·
    She found herself outside without understanding how she’d gotten there. In the days after the accident, time had often played tricks on her, morphine sanding off the boundaries between scenes, dumping her into conversations without beginning or end...
    Barbers
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    Short Story

    Lake Placid

    Patricia Bindert·
    In literature, as in life, a problem emerges here, pecking its way out of a tough and fragile shell. This will lead awkwardly or gracefully to the end of the story...

    Special Issues

    Special Issue: Power

    Power

    Yuki Jackson·
    For the next eight weeks, BP Review will publish a new poem that engages with the idea of power. These poems will collectively highlight the range and journey required to connect to the source, both within ourselves and between one another...
    Short Story

    The Driver

    Adam Scharf·
    I should also mention he was holding a gun. A friendly gun. A gun that belonged in a gun show or an old Spaghetti Western. In fact, everyone in the room had a gun.
    Poetry

    Four Poems

    Nicole Oquendo·
    that smoke; detail of shears; detail of matches; i go to a hole in the wall carribean restaurant because their beans taste like my father’s beans...
    Poetry

    The Armadillo

    Zachary Lundgren·
    The old man told us to spend more time in graveyards and I will not I will spend more time with the armadillo because he shows me there is such a thing as un-sad
    Fiction

    Modern Nature

    Sarah Gerard·
    The bee pooped on a rug. He turned around to inspect it. He had thoughts about death. He always did when faced with his own waste.
    EkphrasticFiction

    Wish You Were Here

    Holly Tavel·
    I feel like I want to apologize for the quality of these postcards. I wish they had been better ones, and that I could have sent you images of sunsets and palm trees and dazzling flamingos.
    Poetry

    Mouse

    Yuki Jackson·
    Disney stuck an explosive in the mascot’s mouth, lit it up, then pop, smiled at his blackface in the mirror
    Poetry

    Nakba

    Lana I. Ghannam·
    This language tastes like songs of my sedo and before, days when land was soft beneath bare feet, before bombshells bore into ground, before bullet skins showered seeds in the dust.

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