Two Poems by Courtney Marie
the future lovers / embrace odd shapes / to approach the imminent- / unnaturally crawling or rolling / to fit through or under. / in fear we fake ourselves- / borrowed gestures / learning new words /
crafting habits and painting / the whole tie dye scene / with dirty fingers / using oil to... Read More
Hellhole by Tristan Foster
On a night when the moon is low and yellow as egg yolk, I watch a plane, silhouetted but for a few blinking lights, flying quiet as a bat over the roof of my home. Inside, upstairs, I use a pencil and an old city map that’s dog-eared at the corners to plot the possible... Read More
Three Fragments from Songs About Women by James Brubaker
Look to the Lowlands and the women there. Banished, all of them, to this neighborhood, this catastrophe of design, this frozen lake of whispers and half-finished thoughts, hidden from view. As you arrive in the Lowlands, don’t ask when or why the place was built. Don’t ask why the houses share no unifying architectural principle... Read More
XIV by Camilo Roldán
heaven is not so far / distant from earth, / nor snow so far different / in color from coal; / fan of the past / open with a piss / on hot / coal white in soft / thighs / always if admonished / were the dart / requisite / for turn /... Read More
I Am Not Supposed to Be Here: Birth and Mystical Detection by Nicola Masciandaro
True detection lies in being extra circumspect about birth, life’s originary and seemingly unerasable crime. “If attachment is an evil,” says Cioran, “we must look for its cause in the scandal of birth... Read More
Hulk Hogan Comes to Tuscaloosa by Brian Oliu
And it’s really him; at least that’s what the children say, that the sky turned red and yellow before it grew black: white thunderbolts across the sky like an interruption, a whistle on the wind that doesn’t know any better... Read More
Art, Money, Beauty, Shit, Representation, the Communal by Sam Kriss
In Der Ursprung des Kunstwerkes, Martin Heidegger attempts to account for and justify the phenomenon of modern art. While maintaining his own somewhat conservative tastes, he claims that modern art possesses autonomous value... Read More
Door by Evelyn Hampton
The path ended a little after darkness had settled over everything.
“This is where I end, too,” Toby Douglas said. “I’ll leave you, and you’ll go on alone. Keep going until you reach a door—it’s inevitable that you will. Everyone I bring over the ridge eventually reaches it. When you get to the door, knock. Then... Read More
Open Call for Submissions: Vestiges_00: Ex-Stasis
Black Sun Lit is now accepting submissions for our first issue of Vestiges, Ex-Stasis. As literature feels an increasing need to justify itself, its relationship with beauty becomes ever more tenuous. The preoccupation with literature’s usefulness has severed its connection with the gratuitous and the unproductive, with terror and reckless eros—in short, with the realm... Read More