Scroll to top
©2018 Barren Magazine. An Alt.Lit Introspective.

Editor’s Pick


Category

Hurt

Hurt

Your mother starts crying when Dami turns up for his funeral. He is fashionably late. You expect this. You also expect him to overdo his entrance, but you are…

Chimeka Garricks 09/19/2018
In Vain

In Vain

I’m lying in the ditch, bleeding. My son has died. I can’t move, can’t climb. I will never be the same. I will never be the same. I hear you above me on…

Aaron Housholder 09/19/2018
Nomads

Nomads

He pushed his cart to the end of the benches and left it sitting there. The benches were empty, snow heaped on them. He watched his breath form on the wind and felt…

Travis D. Roberson 09/19/2018
Death is the Color White

Death is the Color White

"Your lips are a door, your mind is the key." Those words your mother whispered to you scream louder in your head than her ensuing screeches as they placed the…

Lydia Durunguma 09/19/2018
Dead Leaves

Dead Leaves

After Remedios Varo If I do not tell you of the lichen growing on the living room floor will you feel it on the soles of your feet? What of the yellowed…

Erin Emily Ann Vance 09/19/2018
I know the river ran red

I know the river ran red

I know the river ran red until the sea, where the wild throat of a sky washed to the reaches before the magnet dark of eve. In this wavelength, this limbo…

Christopher Hopkins 09/19/2018
hecate #1

hecate #1

undeath is in creation / and the degloving of hands / digging up of pale yellow talisman / kiss of moonlight through the willow branches / fade / d / undeath…

Katherine DeCoste 09/19/2018
Zero Tolerance

Zero Tolerance

Lights blaze from above day and night, but give none of the sun’s warmth. Around me the littlest ones grab onto the metal fence, cry out “Mama,” “Papa,”…

Jayne Martin 09/19/2018
Marigold

Marigold

Mornings in Uganda are first the color of periwinkles, then roses, then suddenly a shot of brightest marigold. I watch it from my doorstep, listening. The caws of…

Katie Karnehm-Esh 08/15/2018
Arsonist With Unlit Match

Arsonist With Unlit Match

She stands close enough to the building for the fumes to creep into her nose. This is the last time, she tells herself, as she always does. Even as the strong scent…

Matt Fiander 08/15/2018
White Knives, Blue Tears, & Red Whips

White Knives, Blue Tears, & Red Whips

The whips fed on the blood of my forefather's backs. Soaked it up like needed sustenance, leaving the drops for the soil We cried into the sea, bodies floating…

Shirley Jones-Luke 08/15/2018
Growing Up Polack

Growing Up Polack

My dad spent 4 ½ years in Buchenwald concentration camp in Nazi Germany. My mother spent 2 ½ years as a slave laborer in various camps there. When the war ended,…

John Guzlowski 08/15/2018
perhaps the sea

perhaps the sea

Foaming and violent as the wave, we echo of beatings taken on shores unknown or known too well. The sea is as young as it is sage, as seasoned in relief…

Chris Wheeler 08/15/2018
After D

After D

a light rain is falling. perhaps, like the trace of a breeze it will bring a fresh spirit of peace to a world that's imploding. shattered seeds scatter, soft,…

Jody Collins 08/15/2018