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For he spake--The gates of divinity part and out rush predatory birds. The taste of strawberries. The shepherd raises their right hand, breaks bread. An owl by any other name. There is a merry gaiety in harvesting human teeth from nectarous fruit.--and it was done. He commanded--A hellscape of rot and rut. Brittle angels and biting insects. Flutes salt the earth. The corpse of a coelacanth dissolves into pastel foam. Sibilant language chewing women, ushering neurotoxins, belching charred oak. And, then, rain.--and it stood fast. Ekphrastic prose and poetry in (ir)reverence to The Garden of Earthly Delights.

Life is simple: you're born, you go to school, you get a job, you fall in love with a robot that loves eating ass, you retire, you go on vacation to Europe, your robot that you fell in love with licks your ass so hard you cum all over your Toy Story sheets, you die. -J. David Osborne, "Robot" THIRD FIVE'S THE CHARM Award-nominated horror authors, bizarro meme lords, asemic artists, and more have come together for the third volume of Carrion Blue 555's flagship series. From dog-walking awards to parasitic presidents, from outdated pop culture references to the process of grieving for a lost pet, these 55-word stories continue this series' trend of the cosmically absurd and the bleakly beautiful. Never speak my name unless you want me to appear, dressed in the skins of the coyote. I wait in the dark by those lonely crossroads and run along desert highways. Those that know my name are too wise to whisper it, lest I come to rattle their doors and mimic the crying of dogs. -Michelle Garza & Melissa Lason, "Yee Naaldlooshii"