abraxas review was formed to celebrate the mysterious and strange. it was forged to encourage climbing the attic stairs and bringing a flashlight along, flooding the place with light. we want to read your treasure chest of weird stories you’ve never told anyone; we want to read your musings on being wrapped in flesh, your observations on the mad unfurling of time. together we form a rebellion against the tiny, blinking cursor on a clean, white document—because who would be born must first destroy a world.

we love reading work that strikes an intentional, but subtle message—work that haunts us, that keeps us thinking about it after we’ve read it. we seek poetry and prose with arresting emotional impact that’s achieved not by contrived figurative language, but language that surprises while serving a larger purpose.

send us your work that is authentic without being performative, that’s experimental without being pretentious, and that speaks to the humanity in all of us.

we can’t wait to read your work!

editors, abraxas review

ISSN 2997-2515