Upcoming Issue
For all its darkness, night can be the most illuminating time of day. Sometimes restful, sometimes restive, night is the domain of dreamers and insomniacs, lovers and thieves, prayers and despair, insights and perplexities. Just as the early bird stirs at daybreak, twilight is the dawn of night owls. Bats, cats, and whip-poor-wills are abroad after dusk, as are security guards, long-haul truck drivers, midnight cowboys, servers at the twenty-four-hour roadside diner. It’s the season of vampires, demons, and ghosts, but also of stargazers, ravers, and the philosopher who burns the midnight oil.

Night is the time of noir, of tranquility, of blitzes, of moonstruck affections; the time of fugue states and nightwalkers, of sleepers tucked in bed and those headed to their night-shift jobs. Neon, candles, street lamps, and the moon are lights of the night; jazz and opera, crickets and coyotes its soundtrack. Scheherazade spun her stories for a thousand and one nights, leaving each unfinished as dawn broke, promising the sultan she would finish the story after the sun set next, thereby saving her life. Night tales can be like that—captivating, evocative, mysterious, inexhaustible, piercing the gloom with incandescence. They can be narratives of dread and dislocation, but also longing and hope.

Conjunctions:72, Nocturnals gathers fiction, poetry, and essays by some of our most innovative writers, both emerging and established, on the theme of night, its denizens and its chronicles. Contributors will include Carmen Maria Machado, Rick Moody, Brian Evenson, Frederic Tuten, James Morrow, Cecily Parks, Steven Potter, Sallie Tisdale, Paul Park, Danielle Dutton, Martha Ronk, Elizabeth Robinson, G. C. Waldrep, Rachel Blau DuPlessis, Daniel Torday, Bennett Sims, Cole Swensen, and many others.

Between now and January 15th, please mail your provocative, innovative, risk-taking fiction, poetry, and narrative nonfiction to our editorial office:

Bradford Morrow, Editor
21 East 10th Street, 3E
New York, NY 10003

Please do not send your work to us via email, unless you are currently outside the US.

Click here for other important guidelines. We look forward to reading your work!



In Print

Vol. 71
A Cabinet of Curiosity
Fall 2018
Edited by Bradford Morrow


December 11, 2018
Cresting the fence, each leaf
sharply particular, edgy, nearly
identical to its kin.
December 4, 2018
I read somewhere that we brood when we’re alone, we act when we’re together. As in act in a play. But she wasn’t acting, at least she didn’t know she was acting. Or maybe she was a far better actor than he was.
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:71, A Cabinet of Curiosity
November 29, 2018
In this mariner’s damp the lichen sprouts, or rather creeps, in the manner molds and kisses do, prurient. Slightly closer then farther toward and away from their undisclosed destination. Investigating, guarded, but unwilling to cease from exploration.