Author Archives: Qu Literary Magazine

Erika Luckert

Erika Luckert is a poet, writer, and educator. She is a graduate of Columbia University’s MFA in Poetry, and a recipient of the 92Y Discovery Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in Denver Quarterly, Indiana Review, CALYX, Tampa Review, The Rumpus, Epiphany, Boston Review, and elsewhere. Originally from Edmonton, Canada, Erika is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.

Aaron Sandberg

Aaron Sandberg has appeared or is forthcoming in Asimov’s, No Contact, Alien Magazine, The Shore, The Offing, Sporklet, Right Hand Pointing, Halfway Down the Stairs, Crow & Cross Keys, Burningword Journal, Whale Road Review, and elsewhere. A multiple Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, you can see him—and his poetry posts—on Instagram @aarondsandberg.

Rachel Browning

Rachel Browning is an attorney, writer, and musician originally from Houston, Texas. Her short fiction has appeared in The Write Launch, New Plains Review, Wraparound South, The Maine Review, and other publications. She lives in Maryland with her twin daughters and is currently working on a novel set in the Gulf Coast of Texas during WWII and the 1950s Polio Epidemic.

Raphael Stigliano

Raphael Stigliano is a writer, actor, director, and game designer in the San Diego area. As part of The Space Cadets, Raphael co-created “What Happened to Becky Acorn?”, an online, immersive detective story played entirely in digital environments. He is currently hard at work completing “Murder Gently,” a collaborative storytelling tabletop game. Qu Literary Magazine marks his fiction publishing debut.

Sean Bernard

Sean Bernard is the author of the novel Studies in the Hereafter and the Juniper-prize winning collection Desert sonorous. Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Iowa Review, Copper Nickel, and The Common, and he is the fiction editor for Veliz Books.

Kevin Broccoli

Kevin Broccoli is a writer from New England. His plays have been featured in Apricity, Fresh Words, New Plains Review, and Stage It. His play “Falling Rocks” was voted Audience Favorite at Theater Southwest, and his play “Father Michael’s Doing Mass” recently premiered at the Actors Theater of Santa Cruz. He is the author of Security and Combustion. (IG: KBJR0719)

Richard Stimac

Richard Stimac has a full-length book of poetry Bricolage (Spartan Press), a forth-coming poetry chapbook Of Water and of Stone (Moonstone) and published over thirty poems in Burningword, Clackamas, december, The Examined Life Journal, Faultline, Havik (Third Place 2021 Poetry Contest), Michigan Quarterly Review, Mikrokosmos (Second Place 2022 Poetry Contest; A.E. Stallings, judge), New Plains Review, NOVUS, Penumbra, Salmon Creek Journal, Talon Review, and Wraparound South. He published flash fiction in BarBar, Drunk Monkeys, Flash Fiction Magazine, Half and One, New Feathers, Paperbark, Prometheus Dreaming, Proud to Be (SEMO Press), On the Run, Scribble, Talon Review, The Typescript, and The Wild Word, with one short-listed flash for Sydney Hammond Memorial Short Story anthology (Hawkeye Press). He has also had an informal readings of plays by the St. Louis Writers’ Group and Gulf Coast: Playwright’s Circle, plays published in The AutoEthnographer, Fresh Words and Hive Avenue Literary Journal, and an essay in The Midwest Quarterly. A screenplay of his is in pre-production. He is a poetry reader for Ariel Publishing and Clepsydra.

Richard Remembers

splice the remaining fragments             smell of vodka, basement room filled with debris, sharp
pull of hands      zippers             teethed             apart with drunken care

 

what were we supposed to trust
but collapsed filaments?

 

we embraced teenage stupidity          left ourselves a sticky residue                             queer
shame

 

… [Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine]

Ran

I crashed through clouds of insects

on my riverside run and carried some

away from their copulation

 

and the rising warmth of a sodden bank.

Were they me, humans, I’d name the juggernaut

of my body a natural disaster

 

… [Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine]

Hot Buttered Lostcat

we averted our eyes from the blown-out tire
by animal instinct, though it was not flesh,
its singed inverted fibers waving invertebrate
in the blackened wind. at the horse-themed
mexican restaurant, i took 1 photo of my body
in the mirror and my phone died. body my house my
STORMIN PROUD PAPA my HANDFUL OF PEARLS
body my $75,000 purse and that’s in aughts money
before the recession hit. o throat that triple a called ma’am
again, o babyface that the tire place, full of mercy,
failed to gender at all. at lunch the next day i kept locking eyes
with a mural of a tom at the movies, a HOT BUTTERED LOSTCAT,
though the sun glided into my eye like boiling oil for
galaktoboureko and octopus and chickpeas and beets,
grease that wept from the eggplant when squeezed
just like my shoulders do. yet i still sat dazzled by dappled
spectres of jockeys, the only boy-shape whose door
i fit through. what is someone like me good for?
speed, mud-splattered harlequin, and you saying
my beautiful boy, and slamming the gas on this thing
as hard as possible before it runs itself into the ground.