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You guys are going to Vegas. 

I want to come with.

LEAVING BORON BY AREL WIEDERHOLT KASSAR 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 127 PREVIEW

She’s just a lonely teenager in a shitty town. Which, by the way, you realize we’d be kidnapping her.

Straight into a whole new life.

WALKING AWAY BY DEAC ETHERINGTON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 127

Someone could drive straight down to Hermosillo, Mexico from here. Keep heading south. Far as you wanted. Maybe all the way to Belize. Straight into a whole new life.









I was a petless kid.

POSSESSION BY AMANDA KLARSFELD 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 127

When I was seven, I asked my babysitter to take me down to the front garden to dig for ants. I scooped a few clumps of ant-rich soil into an old jam jar and screwed the lid on. I put the jar on my window sill and waited to feel like a pet owner.










34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 127

LEAVING BORON BY AREL WIEDERHOLT KASSAR, WALKING AWAY BY DEAC ETHERINGTON, POSSESSION BY AMANDA KLARSFELD, STARTING AGAIN BY LINDSAY SMITH.

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I fight to stay optimistic 

about democracy.

NJ LINE NORTHEAST CORRIDOR BY COOPER SY BLUMENTHAL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 68

My poem is personal and political, inspired by a reckoning with unadorned truth. I fight to stay optimistic about democracy. I try to have faith that the freedoms guaranteed to citizens in the US Constitution will survive the impact of so many solid hits.

So whatchya wanna do now?

ONE MOMENT TO THE NEXT BY DAVID LANGLINAIS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 122

That whole day she had said he needed to get out of his comfort zone more, that it’d be for his own good. She seemed to get a kick out of embarrasing him and the more uncomfortable she made him, the more she relished it.


I never saw anyone looking happier.

THAT HOT LONG WEEKEND BY LINDSAY SMITH 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 124

You two at the motel. Like newlyweds, looking in each other’s eyes, and holding hands, and laughing. I was jealous.


Delilah discovered this wine that’s only 14 bucks a bottle and pretty damn good.

WHAT GOOD IS LOVE BY EMILY GARCÍA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 115

By the time it’s past midnight and we’ve gone through four bottles she’s asleep on the couch.


Grandma makes egg mcmuffins 

and lets us watch R-rated movies.

SINGLE MOMS HAVE COZY APARTMENTS BY SE DIAMOND 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 99

Since Jennifer’s mom is a biker and goes out a lot, Jennifer usually stays at her grandmother’s house where she can have a more stable childhood. I love sleeping over there because her grandma makes egg mcmuffins and lets us watch R-rated movies.

There is still joy, life, and even hope.

DISCO ELYSIUM: FIRST AS FARCE, THEN AS SALVATION BY URIEL HERSZAGE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 124

They are transformed into the very thing that will save the world.


Do you value your phone more highly than your life?

ON THE SUBWAY TO BROOKLYN BY RICHARD ABRAMSON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 122

I smash the phone as hard as I can. The glass shatters and falls away in pieces, and the guts of the thing spill out. I smash it again and the case cracks, I smash it again and it folds in on itself, and I keep smashing it, over and over and over.

Cotton tassels dangle

in the corners of a mind.

TASSELS BY SARAH JANE JUSTICE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 118

 See if god is listening. 

INTERNAL VOICES BY TRAVIS COBB 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81

Inside this Tower of Babel where nothing gets said. Put out what you need to speak. See if god is listening. 

My AI partner scolds me for bad praxis.

And they’re right.

MY AI PARTNER SCOLDS ME FOR BAD PRAXIS BY SHAUN HOLLOWAY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 117

Dark Angel was the song he dedicated to Susie. 

DOWN THE ROAD A PIECE BY BERNIE HAFELI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 11

She blew him a kiss. It was like he could see it rise above the smoke and neon and glide lazily toward the stage, a rose petal in the evening breeze. Momentarily he stopped strumming, reached up and caught it.




I heard a woman say come here, Topaz.

FLOWERS IN THE HALLWAY BY ELLEN BLOOMENSTEIN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 79

I was about to knock on Sally Snow’s door, which I knew was slightly crazy, when the door opened and a Siamese cat came slithering out. “Come here, Topaz,” I heard a woman say.

It’s just like a photo, we think.

THE FLATNESS OF HYPER-REALISM BY ALLISON RICHARDS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

We viewers cannot paint perfect figures, so we don’t make art. We don’t have the time, so we don’t make art. We watch a video on TikTok and the end result looks more real than our goddamn reflection in the mirror, and so we don’t make art. 



Head bangin’ 

ass shakin’ balm.

PLAYLIST FOR THE WORST DAYS BY JAWNO OKHIULU 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 108

A mix of rhythm, funk, soul, and soapbox prophecy cut with love, grief, rage, and acceptance.


Pick the ending you want.

DEAD CAT BY MELVIN STERNE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

What’s the most likely ending? What’s the worst-case scenario? What’s the best ending? There’s a billion potential endings. Pick one.

I made it through. 

On my own.

MACHINE GIRL BY REBECCA EGAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

I want a signal that screams I made it through. On my own. I found a way out. 

I feel more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ROSEMARKIE SEAL BY EMILY NEVES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 103

I turn my back to the cave wall and look out. The slope of the hill and a little green bramble with a spray of yellow flowers partially obscures one side of the opening and on the other side I see the green-gray sea reaching to the horizon. I think I could live here if I had to. 

I closed my eyes and

tried to see life like you did.

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83




We saw an old couple resting on a bench, their bodies sighing into each other, and you cried for tenderness. We saw a group of city children rooting in the mud, their faces lit with primal wonder, and you cried for innocence. You saw a row of ducklings trailing behind their mother in a sickly pond ringed with algae and you cried for motherhood.

Bukowski said that there was everything and nothing.

BUKOWSKI BY CRISTINA CARTER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 47

I want to eat the dirt from your grave. I want to find your words and spit them out.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Aliquam tincidunt lorem enim, eget fringilla turpis congue vitae. Phasellus aliquam nisi ut lorem vestibulum eleifend. Nulla ut arcu non nisi congue venenatis vitae ut ante. Nam iaculis sem nec ultrices dapibus. Phasellus eu ultrices turpis. Vivamus non mollis lacus, non ullamcorper nisl. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Phasellus sit amet scelerisque ipsum. Morbi nulla dolor, adipiscing non convallis rhoncus, ornare sed risus.
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Everything, she thought, 

is an accident of where you are.

STEALING HOME BY KAY BONTEMPO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 78

Two bell peppers, Muenster cheese. Cauliflower, a pack of Newports, Tampax. Martinelli’s apple juice. Paper towels two-ply. English Breakfast tea. Boil-in-a-bag rice, paper clips, ramen noodles. Maybe some ice cream if there was money left over. America’s Choice vanilla, eaten straight from the carton. It wouldn’t be bad. With an uncomfortable pop, he pulled out of her and lay beside her, breathing hard. It was 11.52pm. She wondered if the Shop’n’Save would even be open. 

You make the magic inside your head.

34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSN 1938-9329 EDITORIAL@34THPARALLEL.NET