By Hugh Blanton You'd be hard pressed to find a poet that doesn't use their poems to file grievances, even if many of the aggrieved apparently lack any authentic rage. If it's true that a poet's soul is laid bare on the page, one can't help but wonder if some of these poets live a life of nothing but around-the-clock unbearable misery. It's as if the universe has targeted poets—and only poets—with misfortune and bad luck. Pick up any collection of recently released poetry and you are likely to be met with an endless onslaught of complaint, bleating, and mewling. More than a few poets have mad ..read more

Dear A Thin Slice of Anxiety Readers, In the dim-lit alleys of our literary realm, a new voice echoes, poised to unravel the tangled threads of human existence with a steady hand and a discerning gaze. It is with both reverence and resounding applause that we introduce Mark McConville as the Interviews Editor for A Thin Slice of Anxiety. In the smoky haze of typewriter keys and midnight musings, McConville embodies the essence of a bygone era—raw, unapologetic, and unyielding in his quest for authenticity amidst the tumult. His prose, like poetry etched on the walls of dive bars, carrie ..read more

Queering Michel Foucault   By G.R. Tomaini (2023)   _____________________________   Oh My Darling Undergraduate — Star Of Gender Studies 101 — What Asinine Words Departed . . . Thine Lips , Just Then ! Oh , To Be . . . A Young , Controversial Fool : To Be One Of The Illiterati , Indeed ! Tis Impossible , To Start : Foucault . . . Could Not Be Any More Queer  — Gasp ! Your Rejoinder Strikes True : Perhaps We Shall Grant You This : That The Towering Dogen Of Theory . . .  Could Improve In But One Respect : Here It Is , Listen Up , Kiddos :    GLITTER ..read more

A BIRD COMMISSION   So much depends upon the guardianship of cattle egrets, their hunched-wing walk between the gravestones. They are not holding down the soil, the sinking caskets, the bones that melt to meal, then mold—those turn themselves, are turned by worms and fungus, by the hungry underground into a womb for insects, moles, and message seeped between the trees.                                           No, those egrets charged with light unfold it as their wings are spread ..read more

By Kat Kovalevska Chapter 1 Hazel had woken up a few minutes ago. It was still early, but soon she’d have to get ready. The sun shined through the blinds; she got up and opened them. Hardly a cloud drifted through the sky; sunny weather had continued into September. From her window, Hazel could see the dorm’s backyard—a lawn with benches situated around a flower bed. The school was further away, next to a lake. It wasn’t just an ordinary school but Performing and Creative Arts Academy. In addition to regular classes, the students hadmusic, performance and arts subjects.  Hazel had just ..read more

By Maria Barnes Reset. Restart. Eat again and vomit. These bones are too dry for our consumption, and tears burn sour in the empty mouths of our young. At night, they screech with hunger and claw their way to desolate cities in search of food, but nothing awaits them there. The stone boxes contain pieces of plastic and metal, and scraps of fabric the meat used to cover its bareness. The streets are quiet and still. No meat flows in their sleek arteries, and only bones are left for us, bones whose pulverized essence bears little resemblance to the taste of human meat. We are starving, and ..read more

Academic Pedigree of   G.R. Tomaini,    The Protege of Drucilla Cornell,    and Thereby the Cunning of Reason Itself:   The Charming and Graceful Dauphin of Deconstruction    October 2023   §§§   §1) G.R. Tomaini has been the student of Drucilla Cornell, Elizabeth Camp, Derek Parfit, Ted Sider, Cornel West, Gary Dorrien, Etienne Balibar, and Slavoj Žižek. His chief academic inspirations are Drucilla Cornell, Cornel West, Derek Parfit, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak — the famous translator of Derrida’s seminal Of Grammatology, who positively re ..read more

The Man Who Wore Only a Thong   Once upon a time, there was a prestigious tennis club nestled in the heart of a wealthy neighborhood. The club was known for its pristine courts, top-notch facilities, and exclusive membership. It was the kind of place where the elite gathered to play tennis, socialize, and show off their wealth. At the helm of this esteemed club was a man named Richard. Richard was the president of the tennis club, and he took his role very seriously. He was a stickler for rules, decorum, and proper attire. In fact, he was so strict about the dress code that he would often ..read more

​I went to a deli called Greenberg’s and ordered pastrami on rye with mustard. I hadn’t had a good pastrami sandwich in months, and I was ready. I sipped some Dr. Brown’s Cel-Ray as I awaited my sandwich’s arrival. I never understood the appeal of sweet celery soda when I was a kid. I guess it’s a grownup thing. ​The waiter, whose name tag said “Solly,” delivered my sandwich, along with a small plate of coleslaw and pickles. ​I dove right in. Took a bite of the sandwich. ​It wasn’t pastrami. It was ham. ​I tried to get the waiter’s attention by waving, but he didn’t see me, so I yelled out ..read more

Apology of the MacGyver of Gaslighting By G.R. Tomaini (2023)   I I am sorry that I got you . . . addicted to Heroin ; But your susceptibility — is not my responsibility . . .   II I am sorry that I got you . . . addicted to Xanax ; But your malleability — is not my accountability . . .   III I am sorry that I got you . . . addicted to Adderall ; But your fragility — is not my liability . . .   IV I am sorry that I got you . . . addicted to Crack Cocaine ; But your deceptability — is not my inflammability . . . V I am sorry that I got you . . . addicted to Klonopin ..read more