SPRING 2026
FEATURED ARTICLE
My Night with Ohurt
by Paul M. French
The voice on the line shocks me. For weeks, I’d been tracking down the person responsible for a message I couldn’t escape. I saw it in Baker. I saw it in Cap Hill. Behind a high fence rolled with razor wire, in the upper part of RiNo where the mural-rich neighborhood relapses into grit, there it was: OHURT.
A message. But also a name, a persona. Self-promotion is rampant in graffiti culture. The more your name is “up,” the better. As I’m later told, “It’s like marketing without a college degree.” Graffiti artists compete for wall space the same way corporate brands muscle for airtime—one of these isn’t trying to sell you something, and that’s the one that’s illegal…. Read
FEATURED POET
Becca Downs
Fighting the Urge to Have a Cry Selling
Watercolor Paints at the Denver Fan Expo
I am without reception in a convention center and one lover is without reception at a family reunion in Pennsylvania and another lover is without reception backpacking in the mountains with another lover. My insides slither and knot thinking of the unsynchronized ways I am loving. I have been known to dip toes into the shallow end... Read
