FORTH Magazine

FORTH was created to explore, examine, and expose the work of both established and up-and-coming artists and writers. Through these digital pages, we take readers into the world of the author, the mind of the poet, the vision of the artist, to gain a unique perspective of the often intriguing, sometimes haunting, always strange, little worlds of our most innovative creators. Our mission is to support writers and artists by exposing their work and exploring their lives, and to maintain a recurring set of innovative writers and journalists that you'll only see in our pages. Our content isn't classical or traditional. We publish short format writing for the modern reader and contemporary art that challenges the modern onlooker. Founded in Los Angeles, CA in 2009, FORTH represents art and literature in a way that resonates with an evolving need for interactive media. The West Coast is on the scene. Welcome and enjoy!
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Carrion: Fiction by Will Fricker

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A drive thru taco sign floods an empty parking lot in a pool of astral moon. A jittery spectral presence after Motel 6 fever dreams, in crumpled chinos, you’ve worn that Black Flag T-shirt for two weeks straight. A Gatorade and a cigarette, furtively you watch headlights on the highway, horizon quivering geometric orbs of…

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Remember & Feel It: Poetry by John Valentine

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Remember how you used to catch a fastball right in the sweet   spot. That pure, whip-crack sound going home. Or maybe those   small birds swept in the eye of a hurricane, riding sunshine and   stillness in the carnage. Right place, right time. The absolute focal   point, like nirvana, a first kiss,…

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A promise for tomorrow: Fiction by Robert Joe Stout

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“I was day dreaming, I wasn’t asleep.” Irais insisted. Antonio laughed, short bursts like hiccups. “Sí, pues. Eyes closed. Snoring—” “I don’t snore!” “I know bet—” A flash of light and triple explosions. Irais turned so quickly she lost her footing and grabbed Antonio’s jacket to keep from falling off the low wall. He pulled…

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At first sight: Poetry by RB Wilson

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I saw you through the broken screen door beyond the porch light that flickered with moths   and made your opal eyes dance behind fine rusted tulle scarred by careless men   Was the music that played almost imperceptibly inside your head, or was it in mine? RB Wilson lives in the Imperial Valley. He…

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Love Beets Flowers: Fiction by William Cass

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Very rare: blue moon, bright Mars.  Both rose just after sunset that late May evening.  I stayed out in the backyard gazing up into the night sky until they were nearly straight overhead.  So vivid, they appeared to tremble.  Astronomers called their alignment “in opposition”.  That seemed apropos; my ex-wife had moved out earlier that…

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