“I have trouble finishing things” by Michelle Matz "I grew up in a subdivision where streets met at 90 degrees and now I can’t find the center of things."

“One Bullet Left” by Corwin Ericson "When he finally hung up his double-barrel and bunnystalker cap, he was dismissive of his lack of family and the mystery of his place in society."

“I Am Trying to Love the Whole World” by Shuly Xóchitl Cawood "But it’s hard to love what I am when I know it’s wrong. / I don’t easily forgive my mistakes in their swishing dresses / and careless mascara, with their impetuously long cigarettes. "

“What Isn't Love” by Jennifer Juneau "Because / What isn’t love is nobody’s red sock / And somebody’s black boot."

“Amateur Filmmaking in the 21st Century” by David Dodd Lee "You think it’s hot outside it’s hot in a house / when you’ve got nowhere else you can go, a glass of milk glowing like / radiation on a table"

"Filthy goddess in search of vulgar god” by Michelle Stoll "Priestess of Pan seeks creature to unwind with, / drink wine with, must be kind without being too nice."

“Is anyone good?” by Davin Malasarn "Samantha, I am not good, / though my skin is soft and supple."

"The Loneliness of the Sharpshooter" by Bryan Furuness "At some point, it didn't even feel like I was shooting anymore; I was diving through the hoop every time I threw up my arms—like a dolphin, like water, like a fall of light."

“Love Poem to Saving Your Own Life” by Meggie Royer "Sometimes, what hurt the most / was your childhood phone number lost to memory, / its digits swimming down darkly through the depths."

“You Are as Necessary as Times New Roman” by Alicia Hoffman "Necessary as the scissors and the knife that sit abandoned in the sarcophagus of a suburban garage until the day a bolt comes loose, a screw unhinges, a flap malfunctions."

“Silly Goose” by Jennifer Maritza McCauley She is sitting, waiting for her partner to return / bringing Missouri flora in his mouth; coneflower, / daisies, aster.

From the Editors: Building Space for Contradictions & Juxtapositions But, perhaps, I was subconsciously looking to celebrate, criticize and memorialize what I saw as a space for contradictions.

“The Fall of Chesterfield Mall” by Adam Jon Miller

“Dead Mall, Christmas Eve, 2022” by Robert Fillman bodies bound to endless loops / past shuttered shops and naked / window displays.

“mall stops” by Jeffrey H. MacLachlan synthetic sea breeze oh the aquamarine coins mating winks track lighting chlorine siren imagined pocketing prison city wishes of caribbean sand

"42°29'43.4"N 73°12'22.7"W" by Cleo Levin "The morning of my grand opening, the sun rose early and poured in through my skylights, through the doors, through the three glass pyramids that hung over my atriums. It shone on my polished tile floors and danced through the halls."

“Mill Creek Drive” by J.T. Trigonis Soon, we'd // be at the mall, that holiest of pre-adolescent holies, / shops assailing our senses, every minute feeling / Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

Special Feature: The Mall 🏬 The Mall is the Pine Hills Review special feature of 2025.

“The Five-Year Anniversary of the Tornado That Took Down Turtle Creek” by Sarah Watkins It was the first time that this city had been featured on national news, but no one wanted to speak. The damage spoke for itself. It was as if the building were run through a mandoline slicer—caved-in ceilings,…

“A gigantic cathedral of consumption”: An Interview with Kate Black "I describe the mall as an ‘altar of becoming’—a place of total possibility. I felt, and honestly still feel, exhilarated by how buying something new has the potential to transform myself. (Whether this potential ever actually…

“Mating Ritual” by Steph Auteri Sometimes, if the stars aligned, we’d see them again. By the Sunglasses Hut kiosk. On line at Wetzel's Pretzels or Cinnabon. Sitting at the fountain, flicking pennies into the water.

“155,000M2 of Shopping, Entertainment and Leisure” by Samuel Prince All that swank and show, the imitation / of riches, gone, not even the fountain can spare a few cents / in its dried-up basin, its limescaled font – all wishes spent.

“Extended Call” by Larissa Hikel Where is the fashion parade, the conveyor belt of available products and prospects, that makes life seem so full of possibilities?

“Mallrat Baptism” by Veronica Tucker It had a soundtrack, piped-in pop songs echoing off linoleum, and it had structure. Escalators, maps, food court trays. There were rules we didn’t always follow, but that gave the place a strange kind of order.

The Mall (special feature) will open tomorrow at 10 AM EST! We invite you to experience all the wonderful work that was shared with us. There will be burst of posts coming from each of our social media feeds at that time. ALSO: Our regular reading period also begins tomorrow. Send us your stuff!

“No More Bears” by Timothy Gager “Dumb, reckless, and stupid,” Mama Bear’s false words repeated in her head once more.

“The Thin Line” by Todd Campbell Then a sudden beeping, insistent but not loud. / Is it me? plead your now wide-open eyes. Is it me,

“A Late Afternoon Lying on My Back” by John K. Kruschke The forced air hissing through the vent / is not the sea breeze kiss caressing skin.

“On College” by Merridawn Duckler Walk across the new fields unsteady as a colt or baby giraffe taking unique steps. You’re a triumph of engineering.

“Bloodless” by Kevin Fisher In an opera, I’d have an aria. But on the screen, stage or page it’s all yelling, ugly crying and an archeology of grievance. What if I don’t feel that? I know I can’t go back to sleep.

“The Local News” by Kevin Pilkington I turned it off and stared into / my cup of coffee the way I like / it black as midnight without / sugar, moon or stars.

“The idea of an American Dream feels warped to me”: An Interview with Janet Dale and Allison Renner Jay Gatsby thinks he has achieved it all by reinventing himself and becoming rich, but he is lonely, still yearning for the past, and after he is murdered, no one wants to attend his funeral.

“In Memoriam Little Me” by Sara Eddy My usually / inattentive friends would say goodbye, apologize. / I would inform my mother who to exclude.

“Prairie Need” by Jan Wiezorek His thumb touches a / well in my pain, my palm, where he grinds / his nail into me.

“CPTSD as Ghost” by Kate Pyontek In the dreams I am so Catholic, full of guilt that is not mine. Awake, my therapist asks if I think I’m responsible for every bad thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Prop Room” by Lisa Badner Standing there, tied up, I felt it in my bones, that those boys - they knew who I really was, pretending to be something I was not.

“If only you would give your mineral self away” by Hannah Kesling In this fable, it is morning, and as you shave, your beard becomes red clay in the sink, washes through the pipes, and rebuilds the eroded river bank

“The Drive” by Amy Holman but this drive I had to retrieve motive from something / irrevocable, to believe I could know who did it and be done, splintered

“Tidal Change” by Julia Dath

"How to Conjure a Husband According to Condé Nast’s Top Feng Shui Experts" by January Santoso

what a gorgeous incorporation of natural science terminology into poetry 🙉🪱

"There All Along" by Sarah Burke

Special Feature Submissions Call: THE MALL This summer Pine Hills Review wants to make like Robin Sparkles and go to the mall!

“Curve Ahead” by Ann Yuan

“like the sound when you open the bottle” by Kathleen Hellen

“like the sound when you open the bottle” by Kathleen Hellen

“The Reason I Look Chubby in the Pictures” by Judy Halebsky

"The Priest Comes Over for Pasta" by Lexi Pelle

New poem up today with @pinehillsreview.bsky.social!

“Cinnamon” by Conor Gearin