Digging Through No. 2

Our second reading event in The Red Room at KGB Bar on February 11, 2020 was an uproarious affair. It was a packed house and the standing room only audience was in very high spirits. The night began with a lyrical series of family poetic portraits by Rachel Horowitz, followed by a chilling and poignant story by Dororthy Barnhouse, and ending our first act was … Continue reading Digging Through No. 2

Digging Through No.1

We launched our new monthly reading series in The Red Room at KGB Bar on January 14, 2020. It was a cool, rainy evening and many of our friends were there to celebrate the works of Paul Beckman, Tamar Eisenman, JP Infante, Christine Kendall, Hadley Moore, and Joanna C. Valente. All our readers gave absolutely stellar performances. As a special treat Tamar Eisenman performed three … Continue reading Digging Through No.1

Stories No. 82 – Amber Baird

The Mattress By Amber Baird Samantha told him about the Russians. Her parents told her not to, of course, but she had to tell someone, and Charlie was her best friend. He sat beside her, under the tree in her backyard, and squinted at her through the sun filtering through the leaves. The remains from their picnic lunch were scattered around them — empty store-brand … Continue reading Stories No. 82 – Amber Baird

Stories No. 81 – Gary Singh

Voodoo By Gary Singh Slim occupies a vinyl bar stool, accompanied by a personalized chalice with hoppy German lager direct from the tanks downstairs. His name is carved onto the side of the mug. Camille’s alto voice, a younger, more dusty version of Edith Piaf, floats in like counterpoint to the chaos of sports on nine televisions. She emerges from the kitchen right when Slim … Continue reading Stories No. 81 – Gary Singh

Stories No. 80 – Victoria Giang

Ghost Voice By Victoria Giang They called it the ghost voice because of the way it crackled and warbled into a piercingly high register. It was a voice to captivate and bind the listener. Ros had it. “Once I fed a flower only music,” she confessed to Eung, her manager, confidante, and lover. Likewise, he slaked her thirst with a stream of abuse so endless … Continue reading Stories No. 80 – Victoria Giang

Stories No. 79 – Lee Matthew Goldberg

Join Us By Lee Matthew Goldberg Rockabilly music about the Holy Ghost pumps through the windows of the Salvation Gateway Fellowship Church, a small, red shack with a giant neon cross on the roof, its buzzy light flickering in the dawn. Nestled between two deflated hills in the Missouri Ozarks, this wonky, stitched-together building is the only beacon for miles. The surrounding landscape provides enough … Continue reading Stories No. 79 – Lee Matthew Goldberg

Stories No. 78 – William Lemon

Inconvenienced by Death By William Lemon The guests poured into the hotel pool dressed in robes, bathing suits underneath their fake, downy fur. The children did not bother with such pretense. They wore as little as possible, unafraid of cancer or the judging eyes of their peers. I joined the procession, tie still about my neck. Near the entrance to the pool, a cry from … Continue reading Stories No. 78 – William Lemon

Stories No. 77 – Paul Beckman

Smell You Later By Paul Beckman The Sunday of my sixth birthday I was waiting on the stoop for my father to pick me up. Usually he’d take both my older brother and me together on his monthly pickups but not on birthday months. He wanted those to be special and memorable. That Sunday turned out to be memorable but not special. I sat on … Continue reading Stories No. 77 – Paul Beckman

Stories No. 76 – Lucy Zhang

Orion By Lucy Zhang The first room to the left on the second floor was my brother’s room. Four pieces of tape held a poster of NGC 2024, the star-forming region—ribbons of cloud and smoke, specks of light that penetrated greys and blacks which, instead of obscured, conjured an inexplicable hope to where stars glimmered, mysticism to where they did not. Constellation Orion hung on … Continue reading Stories No. 76 – Lucy Zhang

Stories No. 75 – Kathryn Ordiway

Saturday Siren By Kathryn Ordiway ‘I mean, the hotter the weather, the more people murder,’ your husband says as he wades waist-deep in the murky water. ‘Serial killers and Kansas, you know?’ You have only your feet in the lake, legs stretched long from your place on a blanket because the color—the twinges of red and brown and earthy green—disgusts and concerns you. This is … Continue reading Stories No. 75 – Kathryn Ordiway

Stories No. 74 – M. DeVoe Talley

Reeled In By M. Devoe Talley I saw you then in the summer from the promenade of that county fair as you lay on your back in the near grass and I wandered with girlfriends I barely knew. The late low sun dazzled your tangle of blond hair, and a mustache made you look older, closer to twenty-eight—which was good. Demigods of a lesser mythology, … Continue reading Stories No. 74 – M. DeVoe Talley

Poetry No. 47 – rhea moon

delicate you brush with one tender finger under your earlobe the very spot just three evenings prior i watched in earnest a trembling sentry sat behind you in church the vulnerable flesh poised to meet the prospect of my lips and i could’ve just swept that spot gentler than a feather duster bumping everything on the way down or so i thought it might be … Continue reading Poetry No. 47 – rhea moon

Poetry No. 46 – Auden Eagerton

Telling the Bees I keep the hive you left as a makeshift ribcage, feed it the roots of my blanks. I open my palms— ———————scraps. The rest is stomped ash in my hands every grain smudged teeming into the next. A smattering gesture on an abacus. I am chronic reenactment, anthropologist, spooling into honeycomb the inkblots of legends. Plasma and smarting cedar. A child gashed, … Continue reading Poetry No. 46 – Auden Eagerton

Poetry No. 45 – Stephanie R. Nahhas

Gutters of February When my aunt got sick, I didn’t understand how a brain could eat itself away, how can a brain eat itself, like coils of a serpent eating its own tail, that relentless self-destruction. It’s not easy turning ash into ember, not easy to undo what has been done. If it’s beautiful and glows red and orange, it still burns itself into dust. … Continue reading Poetry No. 45 – Stephanie R. Nahhas

Poetry No. 44 – Katherine Lutz

A la criolla puertoriqueña The water lays flat like A plate of glass ready To rise up and stand Between the sun and me. The sand is a fine, White powder dappling My feet as I walk Across the sandbar like A water bug. On the island of Vieques Where a bomb dropped from the sky And created beaches like the Plains— A flat, people-less … Continue reading Poetry No. 44 – Katherine Lutz

Poetry No. 43 – Bina Ruchi Perino

Every Sunday Morning Divinity must live within herself.  –Wallace Stevens   She didn’t plan ———on being married and quartered, battered and bursting – are Her palms ———close enough to the aarti light? does She pray on crossed legs ———for saffron nectar enough? If She had four arms, She’d hold each child ———from the cremating house, she’d hold him down until he’d wash ———Her feet with … Continue reading Poetry No. 43 – Bina Ruchi Perino

Essay No. 11 – Simona Zaretsky

Letters to Flowers We stand in that field. The sun traces you in gold and you shine from behind, with one hand resting on the rough stone. The stone rises up to your fingers, needing your touch like you need its grey assurance. There is a lot of necessity sitting heavy in the July humidity. The grass a sweet shade of green, patiently waiting for … Continue reading Essay No. 11 – Simona Zaretsky

Poetry No. 42 – Lorraine Henrie Lins

The Last Time I Heard From Her She’d written me on the backside label from a can of Libby’s corn kernels to tell me that she was doing well and thought I’d love the idea of getting corn-label greetings instead of the forty-seven cent postcard she bought her mom. Some nights, when I miss her most, I’ll unfold the label, watch the way her hand … Continue reading Poetry No. 42 – Lorraine Henrie Lins

Poetry No. 41 – Gabrielle Peterson

what was meant by woem written in pencil on the subway window. the faint urgency, or else he/she (she) (he) would have waited for a pen; graphite’s small struggle against the synthetic sill. still, what is “woem?” woman? womb…poem? the space between apples. the sound a belly makes when it has nothing. the drunken or sleep laden conviction to say something, but say it wrong. … Continue reading Poetry No. 41 – Gabrielle Peterson

Calls for Submissions – Chapbook and Artist Spotlight

The Digging Press Chapbook Series Competition Deadline June 15 Submit fiction, poetry, or hybrid chapbooks between 16 – 36 pages. Selected manuscripts have a small print-run (100 – 120 copies), and authors receive 20 copies plus $250 payment. Reading fee: $10.     Artist Spotlight Call for Submissions Ends July 15 Submit a link to your Instagram and/or website artist portfolio. Include a short bio, artist statement, … Continue reading Calls for Submissions – Chapbook and Artist Spotlight

Poetry No. 40 – KG Newman

A Brief History of Brokenness The year I was born a historic hailstorm came. Everyone lost cars, windows. The shards never fully swept. In time, the suburb recovered. Insurance copped for solar panels, HOAs bought replacement birds. I grew up assured of the sun even though my closet overflowed with raincoats. I had two Nintendos. We weren’t rich in other ways despite a chandelier on … Continue reading Poetry No. 40 – KG Newman

Poetry No. 39 – Morgan Peacock

it’s keeping me up at night   Morgan Peacock is a poet, visual artist, and translator whose poetry has appeared in the Columbia Poetry Review, Second Draft Press, and the Plum Creek Review, among others, as well as in a self-published chapbook. She received her MFA in Poetry from Columbia College Chicago. © Morgan Peacock Photo Credit: © munandme / Adobe Stock Continue reading Poetry No. 39 – Morgan Peacock

Poetry No. 38 – Alex Wells Shapiro

Grappling for EJ the shared gaze had always been falling on avatars, – but we are young and naked because guys get changed together. – so, unleashed, following eyes, limbs forming fluid knots sliding through our own creases, – long and smooth like Medusa’s dancing hairs – giggling into submissive, one had to finish atop, and as if remote controlled, with a chin sitting where … Continue reading Poetry No. 38 – Alex Wells Shapiro

Poetry No. 37 – Thea Matthews

MARIGOLD | Tagetes erecta       – Born and raised in San Francisco, CA, Thea Matthews earned her BA in Sociology at UC Berkeley where she studied and taught June Jordan’s Poetry for the People. She has delivered her poetry at various literary settings, some of which include Litquake, San Francisco’s Lit Crawl, the National Queer Arts Festival, and the Berkeley Poetry Festival. She … Continue reading Poetry No. 37 – Thea Matthews

Poetry No. 36 – David Midkiff

Footnotes                   David Midkiff is a Pacific Northwest U.S. born poet and educator currently living in London. He writes to create a space for himself in the world. His work has previously been featured in “Window Cat” by bighugpublishing, “Resistentialism” by Poetastard Press, and the Barely South Review. In 2016, he released a self-published chapbook entitled “EdotGdot”. … Continue reading Poetry No. 36 – David Midkiff

Poetry No. 35 – Bryan D. Price

My animals are out We went to buy an angle grinder, the wheel as light as a cat’s paw. She wants to translate a chair. Give it a brand new life. Later that night— listening to the White Album in its entirety. Mixing wine with water like in the age of Cupid and Psyche. Like responsible humans not yet addicted to pain and its appetites. … Continue reading Poetry No. 35 – Bryan D. Price

Poetry No. 34 – Nolan Meditz

Montauk by Sunrise I venture the thoughts of these men who outpaced the sun to the shoreline, who weather the salt spray and uneasy perches upon the rocks that abut their island and cast their nets into receding dark. They trace a hymn in horizon fire to the pulse of the world they love and keep trying to haul up closer themselves knowing so much … Continue reading Poetry No. 34 – Nolan Meditz

Poetry No. 33 – Lisa Nance

Plagiarizing the Full Moon Chapter Of Victor Pelevin’s Omon Ra I picked up the I suddenly felt I lowered my I nodded & I ran Outside a red poster The first time I drank Was the winter of my fourteen shriveling pieces Of painful comparison with the beautiful American Flying magazine If not for the bottles of cosmic Asking “want some?” & I did I … Continue reading Poetry No. 33 – Lisa Nance

Poetry No. 32 – henry 7. reneau, jr.

WALLER COUNTY JAIL  2 BLKS for Sandra Annette Bland (Malum prohibitum) Wrong only because the law prohibits it, ———————————not because it is morally wrong. (Malum in se) The calm nurture of a Black mother’s wrath, a hollow that sorrows an endless mouth, a daughter’s dead star still burning in her eyes. Because the Law said:  failed to signal a lane change. The difference this time … Continue reading Poetry No. 32 – henry 7. reneau, jr.

Essay No. 10 – Andrew Rihn

_ Tyson vs. Francis Jan 29, 2000 MEN Arena, Manchester, England No prophet is accepted in his own country: a familiar ring in a foreign land, Mike Tyson takes refuge inside a Brixton police station and asks by bullhorn to be broken out. A British newspaper bought advertising space on the soles of Francis’s shoes, anticipating the front page photos of him laid low, their … Continue reading Essay No. 10 – Andrew Rihn

New Book, Chapbook Call for Submission, and More

Last year, we launched our inaugural call for submissions for the Digging Press Chapbook Series. We were overwhelmed by the response the call garnered. Over 250 submissions were entered. We chose one winner, four finalists, and 15 semi-finalists. When we announced Awabi by Mandy-Suzanne Wong as the winner in September 2018, we set a tight production schedule. Our goal was to debut the winning chapbook … Continue reading New Book, Chapbook Call for Submission, and More