Hayden Rigby

Single Raindrop - *Edward Supranowicz

Crooked Teeth

I wrote a poem about loving your crooked teeth but
I never showed it to you because

it was a lie. 


I lie about lots of things;

some things

But not that. 

If the sun was god I’d be covered in cold candle wax


I always believed it was my worst quality that I feel break

up in my bones

that I’ve laughed so hard I’ve

pissed myself before

But I love my heart when it beats crooked


I look for answers that I won’t


And thank god

I don’t


Thank god

my feelings aren’t












Thank god I don’t say what I don’t mean.

get in loser - Brenden Barraza

I know you still read my poetry, motherfucker

What saint do you

pray to when your starving mule


throws your cheating ex’s stupid


into the radio and invents



Limbo is full of your white lighters

& half-finished bottles of lube

so I hotbox my car straight to hell. 
I pierce the softest parts of myself

with pure steel.


What Betty Crocker book

teaches women

to boil blood       blow lids    shatter bowls? 

to crawl into an oven

to break cheekbones against

baking racks ?


The Patron saint of revenge

was a Bad Bitch named Olga of Keiv who

invited her enemies over for a party and

then boiled them alive in her bathhouse.


If you can’t stand the heathen, stay out of the kitchen.

I stuff honey soaked beach

towels in the crack under every door.

And huff all my own holy horror


Hell hath no fury like a woman scorched. 

I say a prayer and asphyxiate

the room.


Uma Thurman who art in heaven,


Hallow it be thy foot up Cottonmouth’s ass. Thy kingdom come thy will be done on earth as it is in Kill Bill.

Give us this day our daily bread and forgive all the times I held my tongue. Deliver me from these gaslightning gods. In the name of the Sissy Spacek drenched in pig blood, Lorena Bobbitt, and the bat to both headlights.


Call Dr. Horder. Amen.

Levitate levitate Levitate levitate - Brenden Barraza

Still Smokin?

(I am

I am I am)


The plant you bought me needs

a bigger pot.


I haven’t talked to you

in weeks,

after I spilled green jungle juice

on my ex

at a party.


On the way home

I told you

to shutthefuckup


I would again.


Last night I had a dream of

my best friends


with you

on New Years without me.

I can’t tell if it’s

last year / next year.


Of course it’s New Years.


When I was 13

I spent a whole year sitting

in my bathtub.

I wrote an entire book

about killing myself

on New Years and then I didn’t.

I never read that book again.


You never ask to read my



when I tell you


that I write about you.


Hayden Rigby is a senior at Louisiana State University graduating this December with a degree in creative writing. Her favorite thing about living in Baton Rouge is interning with Forward Arts, a non-profit organization that fosters personal and social transformation through poetry. Hayden was the winner of both the Dara Wier Poetry Award and the Matt Clark Award in 2018.

*Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia.  He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Straylight, Gravel, The Phoenix, and other journals. Edward is also a published poet.