Poetry
Written By: Paul Tristram I cannot describe the ‘Un-Bear-Able’ PANIC… it’s a Mountain
by Slash Magazine Contributor, Mar 03, 2026
Written By: Arden Falker Sleepwalking toward an old oak door in slippers I forgot that I put on.
by Slash Magazine Contributor, Feb 24, 2026
Written By: Arden Falker Canvas wrapped in a vortex of arms. Ripping wounds and clawing skin I bite the bit to feel a signal.
by Slash Magazine Contributor, Feb 23, 2026
Written By: Allison Noonan I. Autolysis Nothing wakes you up at eight in the morning like the smell of death.
by Slash Magazine Contributor, Feb 21, 2026
Written By: Spencer Keene I was weaned, at the ripe age of three, off of formula and onto offal, blood-drenched giblets of gizzard, liver, and disemboweled windpipe.
by Slash Magazine Contributor, Feb 10, 2026