Issue One

Blog

Dec 101 min read

Tatum Lovsey

In order to maintain a modicum of screenplay format here I have added this piece as a pdf below:

Dec 1018 min read

Robert Long Foreman

Black Telephone Originally published in New Ohio Review 20 Michael, you are gone, and in this house where you once were there is an antique telephone as black as your coffin. Heavier than it looks, it is as full as the hole the men dug for you, early one morning, as they talked about summer and things they saw on TV. Old things weigh more than they look—dead, leaden things like you and the black telephone. You have been gone three weeks, and now my mother is gone, too. When s

Dec 102 min read

Taylor Payne: Four Poems

Pebbles His ghost haunts the cornfield across from my grandma’s house—clipped ears and that mangy kitten coat—and I wonder ‘who could kill a little thing like that?’ My mother’s little lover, his first and mine next. I look at his picture and wonder how she could miss a thing I never knew, if she feels like I have been there always, or like he was so, and softer, and never will be again. I imagine the shrapnel passing through his silver-soft skin, and if he thought about his

About

Piranesi, Giovanni Battista. The Gothic Arch, plate XIV, from the series Carceri d’invenzione. 1749–60, etching and engraving. Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco.

"I became possessed with the keenest curiosity about the whirl itself. I positively felt a wish to explore its depths, even at the sacrifice I was going to make; and my principal grief was that I should never be able to tell my old companions on shore about the mysteries I should see."

― Edgar Allan Poe, A Descent into the Maelstrom

Submit

What do you see, hear, feel, and think in the moments before you drift to sleep; when you startle awake to the feeling of falling, of colliding with the ground you did not know was so far from your teetering body?

Short stories, poems, visual art, and scholarly articles on horror, surrealism, grief, existentialism, the self, the other, the body, the mind, fear, etc.

What parts of you, parts of life, do you hate, love, want to amputate, to study, to burn, to miss and grieve? I want those pieces of you.

I want to freeze you in place until all of your ideas can be extracted and loved.

God, it would take centuries, wouldn’t it?

To siphon the good and the bad, to revel in them the way they deserve, the way you deserve.

That would take too long.

So send me a fraction, minuscule gradients, ideas long and short but never long or short enough to emphasize—life, the self, the external, the internal, space, Earth, thought, action, conscious, unconscious—importance or lack thereof.

I want a fraction of you to be a fraction of me.

Your bones and my bones made into a wind chime.

Submission Guidelines

Email: gravehypnagogia@gmail.com
*this is the best way to reach me

What to submit
- .docx for any written work or high quality .jpg for any visual artwork; for everything add a small blurb about yourself and why I should want this chunk of your brain on my dinner plate.
- Times New Roman, double-spaced, one inch margins.
- If you send a scholarly article, please make sure every source used is properly cited.
- Less than approx. 10k words (willing to have an editorial dialogue about cutting things down if you believe in it and I find that I agree).
- No AI—it is slop and I am not a hog.

How to submit
- Fill out the contact form below which emails me or you can simply cut out the middle man and email me.