In This Issue

  • All My Tomorrows That Are Not Mine

    Maxwell studied his face in the glass for a while. It was definitely his face. And yet… some little thing about the nose bothered him. The shape of his nostrils, maybe? And was it possible his eyes should be closer set? Why was he having so much trouble remembering exactly what he looked like? Had he just never paid attention?
    Fiction by Steve Spaulding

  • Three Poems

    Nursery rhymes, weather bureau web pages, / where do you get the news, how do you survive / when cotton candy clouds deceive us? / They weigh fifty elephants each. / We’ve always feared the sky. / Didn’t Zeus employ Atlas to shoulder / the weight, to keep his concubines / from being crushed flat?
    Poetry by Dave Seter

  • Mainframe Man

    A good salesman facilitates the process, brings the customer in, imbues the customer with confidence that they’ve made the right decision. A good salesman loses sleep so the customer doesn’t. These things, these personal computers, they’re like toasters. The customer sits down with the little instruction book and ten minutes later, they eat a perfect slice of toast. Done. Finito. No hovering salesman necessary. Ficton by James M. Welke

  • Magnificent Obsession: Spring in the Garden

    I often ponder what my neighbors must think of me, knowing how much time I put into my tiny little patch of mother earth. How to explain that when the news is heartbreaking, that when things are not what I would wish even in my own home, turning to the comfort of riotous orange and cool purple, of worms churning in freshly turned soil is a priceless comfort? Finding beauty wherever I turn my eyes is consolation for the ugliness of the world. Photography by Blythe Hurley

  • Henchmen Academy

    “It is my job to train you to become the best possible henchmen that you can be. Those of you who make it through this program will have what it takes to become henchmen for mad scientists, drug lords, criminal masterminds, or any number of overlords with plans for world domination. In the meantime, you will obey my orders. Is that clear?”
    Ficton by Spencer Carvalho

  • Our Radiation Babies

    Those not stillborn are in great agony. / The doctor holds up their forearms to the camera, / oozing yellow sores. / Such would poison give birth to / were it suitably fertilized. / And it was.
    Poetry by John Grey

  • Tropical Depressions A Through F

    His downcast eyes were unreachable. His world was elsewhere. That world may have been secondhand, booted up and downloaded. But it was certainly all-encompassing. There was a great deal of appeal in that. Keith could imagine how real that world would feel to the person who lived in it, alone but not lonely there, caught up in the intense game of a singular mind. He might grade that kind of mental attitude an A for autonomy.
    Fiction by Virginia Aronson

  • What's Next?

    The right choice should have presented itself by now. In the past, jobs I didn’t think I wanted dropped into my lap. I would decide to “try it for a while” while I continued looking for what I really wanted. Eventually, I would realize that what I was doing was actually the right job at the right time and I would put all my energy into it and I would be happy. By Christine Chase

  • Verminelli’s Rumpus Room

    It’s my kind of party. Some drug-stimulated Chinese model girls in expensive dresses lying on beanbag chairs just as I once coveted. I sidle up next to a very pretty, flat-chested one with nice teeth and crescent lips. Fortunately Verminelli is around to witness. I’ve never been that interested in picking up girls unless there was someone around to envy the accomplishment, ideally an enemy. Fiction by Mike Sauve

  • Summer Solace

    Although I’ve done the prep work to take part in everything summer has to offer, not long after the solstice my thoughts turn dark. With less and less daylight accompanying each rotation of the earth, I get anxious thinking about how soon it will be fall, and after fall comes winter, and winter is my least favorite season! By Katherine Hinkebein

  • The Meaning of Adequate Pockets

    At present, I have been rendered pocketless by the unjust grip of women’s career wear. I tuck gum into my waistband and money into my ahem-ness. Occasionally things wander down into my ordinarily sensible socks. Occasionally, too, the gum gets greedy and sticks to my money. All this so that I may be kicky and carefree like my male counterparts as we wander down streets and whistle and twirl straw hats. By Denise Pace

Departments

  • From The (Once and Future) Publisher

    Mission Accomplished

    We served as a political forum through a historically contentious time. We published the extremely personal poetry of people from around the world. We hosted the original music of bands that had never before been heard outside of their own basements. We let people realize the joy of sharing their ideas with the world. Keepgoing.org allowed people to realize some of their unknown talents and undiscovered passions.
    By Geary Yonker and the keepgoing.org Staff

Featured Image © 2010, Photography by Geary Yonker and Heather Egland

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