Something Was Eating My Brain, Too: On Beth Ann Fennelly’s Heating & Cooling by Andrew Bomback

Let Me Tell You What Your Book Is About by Andrew Bomback, Prose

I confessed to my older brother that my outbursts, all the yelling I was doing combined with the physicality required to control Mateo, felt like a form of emotional and physical abuse. “If a hidden camera was following me,” I said, “and you watched that footage, you’d say there was something seriously wrong with the father.” My brother, who has four children, empathized but warned against continuing this pattern. He’d done the same thing with his youngest child, and he now felt guilty seeing how often she, at age nine, erupted. Neither of us extended the conversation to its logical conclusion – had we failed our children? – but perhaps that point was already understood.

A Diagram about “Women” by Esther Neff

Multimedia, Prose

This diagram was drawn in rage and terror, working against subjection and abjection in attempts to objectify "the paradigm" so that it may be exposed and embarrassed as "a construction." How does such a diagramming process "work"? To flatten and position epistemes and influences is to perform a semblance of control, but isn't this very definition of "control" the same will-to-power that constructs binary gender and other coercive and oppressive orders for human qualities and properties in the first place?

OE Classics: Excerpted from “Trout Fishing in America” by Richard Brautigan

Poetry, Prose

Then the two artists talked about committing themselves to an insane asylum for the winter. They talked about how warm it would be in the insane asylum, with television, clean sheets on soft beds, hamburger gravy over mashed potatoes, a dance once a week with the lady kooks, clean clothes, a locked razor and lovely young student nurses. Ah, yes, there was a future in the insane asylum. No winter spent there could be a total loss.

Two Poems by James Croal Jackson


We have been fighting a lot lately– / from our favorite tv shows, to what type of dog/ we might get, to which sugary cereals to pile/ into our cart with all these cheap products/ that don’t fit together: taco shells, toothpaste,/ store-brand mac and cheese– would you believe/ a month ago this place was stocked with everything/ we need? --From "Our Neighborhood Giant Eagle Is Closing"