From Future Streaming Services User Generated Content #2, by Jason Herbert
Everybody in our town carries adrenaline shots. Also, they only go under in pairs.
How to Get That Nuclear Winter Look from 1600 Penn to Your Own Den, by Tabitha Blankenbiller
Are you looking for the Instagrammiest #holidaywin for 2017? Come on down to the Lancaster Mall Hobby Lobby, where we can help you recreate the yuletide look-of-the-moment for your house!
Latkes Talk About Why We Never Go to My Parents with Hannukah Even Though We Go to Yours with Christmas, by Yael van der Wouden
Roughly grate the potatoes. You can also do this with a blitzer, but there’s something nice about knowing you’re participating in your culture’s tradition by doing it by hand.
Three Poems, by Danny Caine
Tell whoever says there’s nothingto do in Fremont, Indiana thatthe Holiday Inn Express hasfree cookies all night anda business center and a Christmas treeall in a row in the lobby.
Two Poems, by Danny Caine
People who hate this
song are like people who
don’t like candy corn:
loud, everywhere, and
wrong.
Christmas Cards My Teenage Boyfriend Meant to Send, by Kristine Langley Mahler
It’s the seasonal shift, the boomerang-bending-back to turn and return to the hands that cradled us, once, but also the melancholy of realizing all the things that were supposed to happen during the year and didn’t.
Two Poems, by Todd Dillard
This poem was supposed to be about
Donald Trump playing Dungeons and Dragons,
Holiday Fruitcakes to Give Away and Enjoy, by Tim Duffy
When you make the fruitcake there are some rules:
You will want to picture it covered in apricot jam, nuts, the fingerprints of lovers, but that is to get ahead of yourself. To put the cake before the batter, as it were.
Two Poems, by Brianna Flavin
First it’s the good sugar, all babyit's cold outside and warm hands of the loveron your spine. While any fool could seethe trees turning to spindle points,
Little Miss Colorado, by Alex Ebel
Before they searched the basement. Before her father unlatched the stubborn door to the wine cellar. Before they found the small form huddled beneath a white blanket.
No One Deserves Happiness in Christmas Town, by Amber Sparks
Christmas Town. What a dreadful, dismal, backwater dump
Have you been?
And what I mean is, have you been since you were small and rather naïve?
Instagram Jesus, by Leonora Desar
We wanted to begin. We wanted to be reborn and die and do all these things at once.
That Time When Me and Mister Were Celebrities, and We Were All Cousins, by Alison Grifa Ismaili
I walked into the dirtiest, saddest, scariest gas station in Baton Rouge.
A Family Tradition, by Dan Shewan
I’ve always envied people who can remember holidays from their childhood. I’m not great at remembering things. Sometimes I forget to eat, or shower, or brush my teeth.
Fox My Fox, by James Tadd Adcox
Toward the end, the grandmother began leaving offerings in her backyard each night for the fox. Her family told her not to; but each time they confronted her about it, she claimed she had no idea what they were talking about.
Yelp Reviews of 1998, by Amorak Huey
like would I go back if I could?it has rained for thirty-six hours & I am bored of the present so sure maybe
Fourteen Sticks Inside, by Misti Rainwater-Lites
“Don’t resist counseling.”“I resist everything but clown makeup and donuts.”
I Go to Join It, by Ashley Hutson
In the picture of my heart’s desire, I am watching “Three’s Christmas,” the fourteenth episode of the second season of Three’s Company, and the only holiday episode of my favorite series.
New Years, by Dina L. Relles
Their feet stuck to the thin layer of beer that coated the kitchen and mail littered the rug by the front door. They went out only to get milk and coffee and diner eggs.
Two Poems, by Benjamin Garcia
Crab—because they skitter sidelong—might counter your clockwise.
Pheasant for fear of your luck taking wing. As Emily Dickinson said: hope is a feathered thing.