About Us

At Unbroken, we love poetic prose and the prose poem. Because a haibun is a prose poem with a haiku at the end, we also love the haibun. Unbroken desires to give the block, the paragraph, the unlineated prose, a new place to play.

The paragraph is an extremely difficult form. Just as the wind brushes the underbelly of the idea, a new indent appears. All this hubbub about access and the idea, the idea and cohesion, the idea and liquid space. Polymorphs, snowglobes, a barrage of supporting examples, whirligigs that flutter about before falling into the netting of the idea. Seven ideas total, or one? Suddenly before a recheck for sentence completion it’s rounding up, prosaic summations, concluding with modular force. Sonnet-shaped yet unmusical, the paragraph is fast enough.”

~ Tom Snarsky, Unbroken Contributor

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From our current issue . . .

  • Writing at a desk

    What to Write Home About by Jenni Garber

    Any cat without a face. Piercing your first penis. Chipping your first tooth. A child named Alchemy. Middle school anal sex. Tallahassee. Confederate flag tattoos. Dashboard fiber optic Jesuses. Monocles. American flag pasties. Stains in bathtubs. Peach-pie moonshine. Befriending a chicken. Coffins. Your boyfriend’s girlfriend’s baby. Storage shed movie night. The word, petrichor. A bum […]

  • Flowers in a field

    Cicadas by Ingrid Bruck

    Cicadas arrive a month later in the northeast than the southwest. In Texas they are raising mayhem by early July, they have a longer time to deafen all who live nearby with their strident calls than in the northeast where I live. It’s late summer when cicadas hatch in Pennsylvania, climb trees and start making […]

  • night makeup

    The Hat Horizon by Aaron Morris

    When the sky collapsed, could no longer function as it did before, we understood pretty quickly that it had to be replaced with hats. We weren’t too sure about using the stovepipes due to their size and the way that they could obstruct both the sun and other hats, but besides that, just about any […]

  • At war with ghosts

    At War with Ghosts by J. Todd Hawkins

    We wrestle all night with them, actually. Throw them against the walls and watch them slide down to the hotel carpet, pooling in the shadows before reforming again. We have been here before, but never here exactly. We have been traveling too long, remembering too much. These strains of others’ blues coat us like road […]

  • A profile of a woman

    Nampa by Steve Bogdaniec

    Today we laid off another 5000. Some town in Idaho, not sure where. I knew a woman from Idaho once, waitress at this one dive at school. Never knew why she moved out here. Nice woman, though. Uniform was pink cotton with waves of white lace, thick chocolate brown pantyhose, tobacco perfume and crooked teeth, […]

  • Peacock feathers

    Peacock Green by Charley Rogers

    The colour is Peacock Green. Or so it says on the bottle. The shimmer catches the light, and she sparkles as she moves. Peacock Green. Bold, bright, assertive. She paints on the colour hoping its essence will seep through her nails, through her hands, into her skin, her blood. That she will become this bold […]

  • a bear

    Man vs. Wild by Nicholas Rys

    After the president was eaten alive by bears on national television the country fell into various states of dilapidation. In a rare moment of unity both fans and critics agreed it was a riveting and appropriate end to what ultimately amounted to both a condescending and overextended stay. The survivalist-themed reality TV program was previously […]

  • A woman with a laptop

    A Chat by Joanne Jackson Yelenik

    Hello there Aryeh, I do want to hear your questions—the practical, about Michaeli, your day, the learning, Shabbat, what to do now, next, later, when. And more than that, our laughter, my telling of the applause at the poetry reading, your designing on the computer, the focus group reactions to my novel, your voice, how […]

  • A man on the floor

    On Prospect Avenue, Newark, DE by Andrew Graney

    One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” — Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus I just think motherfuckers wanna laugh.” — Harris Wittels, Comedy Bang! Bang! I Here you are, in your doorway, saying Andrew! saying a shot of vodka? Yes. I hate vodka. I don’t care. I’ll chase it with a joke. Your laughter—rushing down my spine—a gust of […]