World-Builder

    Featured

    Featured

    World-Builder

    Scorpio Vision

    If you built a world / would it look like me– / rough around the edges / but golden at the core, / drenched in culture, / a land with no borders...

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    Special Issue: Power

    Power

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    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...

    Award Winners

    Short Story

    The Driver

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    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.
    Barbers
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    Essay
    Rancher
    Selah Saterstrom
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    Mixed Media
    A Field Guide
    to Embodied Archiving
    Leah Sandler
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    Poetry
    Little God
    Avni Vyas

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    Poetry

    Four Poems

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    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...

    Reprints

    Poetry

    The Armadillo

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    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
    EkphrasticFiction

    Wish You Were Here

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    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

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

    Nakba

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    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.
    Short Story

    How the Devil Finds Out

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    It happened on the corner of 147thand Miller, beneath the long branches of an oak hanging over the corner. It happened often enough— usually to white kids crossing U.S.1 in front of the University of Miami or other tourists on The Beach—but seldom in this residential area, and never on this intersection.
    Poetry

    Amber Stream

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    He fished the Suwannee: slow- flowing, tea-stained, wild, where the river drops through limestone and revives itself.
    Short Story

    What Blood

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    Mr. Chuck Stonehill walked over from next door and told me he found a tackle-box, a bullet, and a rubber by the picnic table in the backyard under the palm tree between our rusting beach trailers.
    Nonfiction

    Schnozzle

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    I was so innocent that my first thought was he didn’t know he was exposed. But the way he was staring at me so fixedly soon made me realize it was on purpose.
    ExcerptsFiction

    An Excerpt from Radio Dark

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    The streets of Memphis’ town had been orange groves when he was a boy. He remembered as, one by one, the groves were bulldozed to make room for neighborhoods, for the people from up north, finally tired of the long winters, to settle into their respiratory diseases and neurological disorders.
    Nonfiction

    Lonely Boy Fights

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    The ending to my story in Orlando flickers. I thought I knew how the story would end when I first set out to write this series. The scene would be framed at the Orlando International Airport...
    Nonfiction

    Lonely Boy Dates

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    If I like her and she likes me, we run the gauntlet: Wally’s, Lil Indies, Tako Cheena, and then a fifty percent chance of never seeing each other again...
    Nonfiction

    Lonely Boy Dances

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    At Lil Indies, a hipster bar, it doesn’t seem like many people are getting into the music. People pause conversation and look at the empty dance floor like someone left on the TV. So I decide to get wasted out of my mind until I believe in myself...
    Short Story

    Reservations

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    It’s peak season and all the snowbirds are here, trying to escape the horror of the outside, for the last few weeks the smell of decayed ocean life has fallen like a curtain of death.