Issue Seven is NOW ONLINE 

featuring writing by 

Cassandra Troyan, Andrew Worthington, Theo Thimo, Nic Rad, Sarah Jean Alexander, Johnny Vulpine, Serge Astapkov, Beach Sloth & LK Shaw

featuring art work by

Stephen Michael McDowell, Emily Horn, Kelsea Basye, Nic Rad, LK Shaw, Jenn Kucharczyk, Serge Astapkov, & Sarah Tue-Fee.

Habbo Hotel

It was a messy and foggy morning when Steven Sillyperson logged onto and saw the picture of a dog photoshopped inside the foreskin of a human penis. Steven, who prefers gender neutral pronouns, saved the picture in their Dropbox folder titled reaction pics, and after spending twenty minutes reading a post about Elliot Rodgers, they started a Tinychat room and linked to it in their thread on /b/.

The sky felt gender neutral to Cher Littlebit while she browsed an area code hook up thread on /soc/. She ctrl+F’d “415” but didn’t receive any results. Simba, the orange ragamuffin, knocked over a vase before running out of her bedroom and hiding under a couch. Cher followed him out the room and laid down at eye level with him where they stared at one another. “What’s the matter with you?” she said but Simba had trouble understanding her because he mainly communicates through body language.

Steven smoked salvia alone in their room to an audience of twenty peers, and when they began to feel constrictions tense through their body, they came to the same, reoccurring thought, “I can not imagine anyone consenting to this.” In the middle of the terribly physical and violent yanking of Steven’s identity, they felt something familiar.

But does it really matter if things feel familiar to Steven,and I mean does this feel similar to you, this familiar feeling thing I mean?Just FYI, I don’t see any correlation to how Steven perceives themself to how someone like, for example, me can perceive themself. It’s hard for me to find the connections between the things happening around me, but we make connections with the people in our communities all the time anyway, and they affect the way we think about the things and people around us, just in case you weren’t paying attention this is what is currently happening.

Paul Nickleback, who had recently published Cher in his serialized magazine focused on culture and gender after their initial meeting at a book launch last month in San Mateo, who had just sent Cher one of many increasingly concerning text messages requesting nude photos, hadn’t left his home in a week following his termination from his job, and watched Steven on tinychat but lost interest halfway through, in the same familiar way he had lost interest in himself whenever long ago, it doesn’t really matter.

Eli recently began his job at and is otherkin. His Facebook news feed displays an article that matches his interests. Millions of dollars go towards an algorithm that ensures you only see the articles that are most relevant towards you. Humans are increasingly finding new ways to control and change the environment around them. Eli, on the other hand, identifies as a cat.

Theo Thimo


Sarah Jean Alexander & Theo Thimo reading from SJTB at $ YOUNG MONEY POETRY $ in BK  

Tweeeeet Tweeet Tweeeet

Something cute is happening in front of me and my manager’s roommate while we smoke weed in the back of the bar.

I ask, “Did I hear John say you two recently moved?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“Oh, where you living now?”

There’s a lovely pause in our friendly conversation.

“Park Avenue.”

“Oh,” I say. Our eyes twinkle and shine toward one another. “Very cool.”

“Yeah, we moved around two weeks ago.”

“It’s funny,” I say, “You have more money right now than I’ll have my whole life. That’s very nice for you.”

He thanks me and expresses profound humility.

“Yeah,” I twirl my thumbs. “I just realized I can’t relate with your life in anyway whatsoever. Have a great day!”

There is something nice about me when I meet Paul near Boston Commons.

“So, that made me feel really emasculated,” I remark to her.

“Stop it.”

“Do I smell bad to you? I haven’t showered in a while and all my clothes are dirty.”

“No, I don’t smell anything.”

We sit in front of ducks or geese.

“I just want to remind you that you can be completely honest with me.”

“You do smell but it doesn’t bother me,” she divulges to me in confidence.

A grand jury recently decided not to indict police officer Darren Wilson in the murder of Michael Brown.

“That’s terrible,” she says.

“I agree.”

We order what we would later agree to be two “very delicious, and especially cheap cappuccinos.”

“That will be $8.89,” the barista smiles at us.

Paul investigates her pink purse.

“Oh no,” she says. “I don’t have enough money.”

Our eyes transpose with the cashier in the shape of what my imagination made-believe to be the Bermuda triangle.

“This is very embarrassing,” I say.

We accumulate our money, reaching six dollars.

“You guys are straight,” the cashier says.

“I just want you to know I feel like a terrible human being,” I confide in her.

Outside the cafe, “We deserved that shameful experience to happen,” I say.

“We are horrible and deserve this.”

We begin our leisurely stroll towards the train station.

“Can you spare some change,” a human being asks us. “I’m very hungry out here.”

Paul asks me what’s new.

“Well, I was talking to my friend about post-modernism yesterday. I just don’t get it, I think.”

“Did you know I was once in a Model UN?” she asks me.

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it before.”

“Oh, and did I tell you about how–”

“You locked your classmate out of the hotel room because he said something misogynistic.”

She explains how she has a number of preset anecdotes that she will tell people.

“Yes, I have those things too!”

“Isn’t it great that we compile these experiences in our life, and willfully highlight certain events to paint this picture of ourselves to the people around us.”

“And that’s who we are, I know. It’s crazy.”

“And we chose to see each other.”

“Yeah, and we pretend like it’s a casual thing but it’s really because we feel this impulse to see each other.”

“It’s super weird,” she says.

“Can I use your phone for a second? Mine just died.”

I trade my friendship for her smartphone.

“so happy with being happy and friendly,” I tweet.

A man in a suit walks by us while we sit and smoke weed on a bench.

“Smoking weed is something people do,” she says.

“It’s super fun. We can do this and nothing bad will happen to us even though it’s illegal.”

I’m still using her phone when I accept a friend request, and like some statuses.

“Can I see it for a second?” she asks. “Jesus christ, Theo. It’s at 3%.”

“I feel terrible, Paul.”

“Theo, it was at like 60% when I let you borrow it.”

“Look,” our legs stumble in front of a window pane.

“Wow,” she says.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a 3D-printer,” she says.

We marvel in wonderfilled gaze.

“I love technology,” I say.

“It’s making a turtle.”

The storefront shines light on our cute faces. Just then, I catch a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection. “It looks like it’s pooping,” I say, surprising myself with a little wink.

Theo Thimo lives in Brooklyn. He has been published in Metazen, Press Board PressShabby Doll House, and Everyday Genius. He can also be found on Twitter and Tumblr.

Theo has five stories in Electric Cereal.




Featuring writing by Sarah Jean Alexander, Guillaume Morissette, Mike Bushnell, Theo Thimo, LK Shaw, Mallory Whitten, Frank Hinton, Chris Dankland, Beach Sloth & Jesus Moses…


original artwork by 

Emily Horn, Shona MacPherson, Kate Shaw, LK Shaw, Jenn Kucharczyk, Stephen McDowell, Mallory Whitten & Theo Thimo. 

(Click the image to read)

this post has all my writing

this post has all my writing that ive put on the net from most recent to oldest
most of this shit is on my tumblr anyway but i want to be able to link to this stuff

Okcupid (Mar 2013)

setting fire to sheeps on minecraft (short film) (Mar 2013)

selected omegle poems (Feb 2013)

untitled poem (spoken out loud by me via Shabby Doll House Mixtape) (Feb 2013)

untitled love poem (Feb 2013)

untitled poem (Feb 2013) 154 Peterson Rd (via Love Symbol Press) (Feb 2013)

u did beautifully theo (via Habitat) (Feb 2013)

Selected Haikus (Feb 2013)

Somewhere Between The Crown On My Head And The Stone In The Ground (poem collab with Noah Cicero via Parlor) (Feb 2013)

How can you tell if your kittens sad or crying? 10pts answer (Feb 2013)

untitled poem (Jan 2013)

I’m A Robot (Jan 2013)

untitled poem (Jan 2013)

The Heiko Julien Button (via thingsbyotherpeople) (Jan 2013)

untitled poem (Jan 2013)

Poem (via Metazen) (Jan 2013)

Tastes Good For Three Seconds (via Shabby Doll House) (Dec 2012)

Sarah Jessica Theo Bradley (collab with Sarah Jean Alexander) (Dec 2012)

untitled poem (Nov 2012)

untitled short story (Nov 2012)

untitled poem (Oct 2012)

untitled short story (Oct 2012)

untitled poem (Oct 2012)

untitled poem (Oct 2012)

untiled poem (Oct 2012)

I’M/YOU/ART/SHIT (Oct 2012)

Bee Killer and untitled poem (via Habitat) (Oct 2012)

untitled poem (Sept 2012)

What A world (Chat excerpts between me and LK Shaw via Shabby Doll House) (Sept 2012)

untitled poem (Sept 2012)

untitled poem (Sept 2012)

untitled poem (Sept 2012)

untitled short story (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Aug 2012)

SFLISTW7.DAT (via Habitat) (Aug 2012)

dont know (via The April Reader on page 25) (Aug 2012)

untitled poem (Jul 2012)

untitled poem (Jul 2012)

garden (Jul 2012)

toads (Jul 2012)

kitchen tiles (Jul 2012)

seesaw (Jul 2012)

dirty walls (Jul 2012)

gone (Jul 2012)

running (Jun 2012)

thick coats (Jun 2012)


me reading a poem


Theo Thimo:

“Mellow Pages has (apprehensively) OK’d my idea for this reading event. 5-10 readers, who get to read for 5-10 minutes (on the one condition that fight me for 2 minutes beforehand)

If you call yourself an artist but you’re not willing to put your body and physical health on the line then please cease and desist making art.

Before each fight the audience can bet on either me or the reader and if I win the proceeds go to Mellow Pages, if the reader wins then the money goes to him (supporting your local writers!)

Art has to excite people. It should make the room come alive. I want people to feel nervous before a poet reads. I want to feel electricity in the air. No more falling asleep before a reader goes up. We won’t just be reading pre-written poems anymore, we’re going to be making something here.”

list of readers from that night:
Moon Temple
Stefania Joanne Alfieri
Oscar Bruno d'Artois
Louis Packard
Eduard Pankov