The glitch won.
Normal content has been corrupted.
Issue One of The Underland Review: This Zine is a Lie is now live — 57 pages of poetry, prose, art, and soft monsters from the margins of the algorithm.
Pay what you want. Hold it in your hands. Or vanish into the archive.
Category Archives: The Underland Review
Modernizing the Constitution: Lessons from a Signal Chat. Part 4.
The Founding Fathers return from the afterlife to discover what America did with the Constitution. They are not impressed.
In this Signal Thread–style satire, ghosts rewrite the Sixth Amendment, arguing about speedy trials, juries, plea deals, and why PowerPoint should never be admissible evidence.
Call for Submissions: The Underland Review. This Zine is a Lie.
A call for poets, glitchers, microfictionists, rebels, and ghosts.
The Underland Review wants work that twitches, burns, self-destructs.
We are extending our deadling to February 5th 2026 for the next edition of the zine!
Call for Submissions: The Underland Review. This Zine is a Lie.
A call for poets, glitchers, microfictionists, rebels, and ghosts.
The Underland Review wants work that twitches, burns, self-destructs.
No bios. No AI sludge. No gods. Just stories that shouldn’t exist.
The Golden Apple
They told us to smile. Eyes white. Teeth on show. Beam.
“Ні, ні, люба. Очима. Посміхнися очима. Їм потрібно тебе бачити,”
I am sorry.
Her
She was always there—taller than the rest of us, quieter too. Even as a boy, I felt something holy when she entered a room. For years I watched her, adored her from afar, imagined our life together. She seemed to shimmer in the light, a figure of grace and promise. I brought her home. I wore her close in war. She never spoke, but I listened like she did. Now, years later, I wonder if she ever knew me. If she ever loved any of us. Or if she was just a story we were told to believe in.
Call for Submissions: The Underland Review. This Zine is a Lie.
A call for poets, glitchers, microfictionists, rebels, and ghosts.
The Underland Review wants work that twitches, burns, self-destructs.
No bios. No AI sludge. No gods. Just stories that shouldn’t exist.
Salt in The Wound
Salt in the Wound is a new anthology calling for poetry, prose, and nonfiction on justice, equality, and resistance. We want work that burns—writing that refuses to scab over. No bios, no fluff. Just the truth. Submissions open until 16th June 2025.
Salt in The Wound
Salt in the Wound is a new anthology calling for poetry, prose, and nonfiction on justice, equality, and resistance. We want work that burns—writing that refuses to scab over. No bios, no fluff. Just the truth. Submissions open until 16th June 2025.
The Underland Review
The glitch won.
Normal content has been corrupted.
Issue One of The Underland Review: This Zine is a Lie is now live — 57 pages of poetry, prose, art, and soft monsters from the margins of the algorithm.
Pay what you want. Hold it in your hands. Or vanish into the archive.
