About MicroLit Almanac

Welcome to MicroLit Almanac, a Birch Bark Editing online literary magazine. Every few weeks, we’ll publish innovative flash fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Although conventional micros are fewer than 300 words, we are far from conventional. So take up to a thousand, but no more.

We hold up fostering community as necessary: a world-building endeavor focused on loving responsibility in a realm that asks much of us. Our creative actions flow, form, and sustain a community built on diversity and inclusion. 

MicroLit Almanac accepts submissions from September 1-30 and March 1-30.

In Spring 2022, we collaborated with Liveright Publishing and Cheryl Pappas on a video recording project: poets and writers read a poem from Charles Baudelaire’s Flowers of Evil translated by Aaron Poochigian. Our goal was to unlock Baudelaire, and use his melancholy to shed a little light on where we are and what we’re thinking these days.

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Karina by Terry Huff

I walk where Karina’s path began, certain
that her vision became clear as her name
framed in concrete, like a Hollywood star.   

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The Killing by Ciaran Cooper

I’d heard about packs of dogs that run through the valley every few years, but I’ve never seen them. I figured it was just an old story.

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El Rio by Jane-Jack Morales

El Rio

Had it not been for her long black hair you could not have said if she were a boy or a girl standing there, knee deep, feet wide apart in the Rio Hule. She was naked, except for her once lime green shorts, which were now faded to pistachio.

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Flâneuse by Carrie Cooperider

I notice the people with missing teeth and the women with makeup that’s too much but not enough to cover the bruises. I notice the limpers and the lispers, I see the valet with the mullet hauling the elderly patron aftward from the back of her sedan toward the entrance of the restaurant.

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My Mother Sleeps with Rabbit Angstrom by Liz Ziemska

In retaliation for my abandonment, I liberated my grandmother’s beloved parakeets from their cage on the balcony. I watched as they fluttered onto the leafy branches of the cottonwood tree across the street, jealous of their ability to go anyplace they liked.

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