Three Poems

W. Todd Kaneko

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Looking Outside Airplane Windows   I expect to see that boy in the clouds, sad faced, barbed wire tattoo ablaze where no one can see it— not a tattoo but a scar wrapped around his belly like a belt cinched… Continue reading Three Poems

W. Todd Kaneko

Two Poems

Rosebud Ben-Oni

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Efes Wrestling with the Poet Who Won’t Look Away   To set fire to warships in the water                                                                                            cast your mirror as parabola. You still won’t quiet these waters.                                                                Finite are bodies to drown. Infinite only the quarks & electrons that you… Continue reading Two Poems

Rosebud Ben-Oni

Narrowing

Mark Powell

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#372a55′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] She was still sick from the Lortab they had given her in the emergency room, but at least she was finally sitting up, finally drinking a Met-Rx shake through a silly straw, her jaw wired shut. All of this beneath the camper… Continue reading Narrowing

Mark Powell

Two Poems

Jake Skeets

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Red Running Into Water   tsi’naajinii nishłí pronounce the ł as water whistling through shadow                on black bark the í as boy wearing only yucca                lake colored tábąąhá báshíshchíín the í is now mouth of narrow stream                inside a pink… Continue reading Two Poems

Jake Skeets

Repeating Island

Yan Fécu

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#339999′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] “I’m not supposed to talk to you anymore,” Maile said. “Not like this.” She and Tav sat on a sequestered patch of black sand beach. They were far enough away from town that its lights glittered like some forgotten constellation.… Continue reading Repeating Island

Yan Fécu

Excerpt from Postpartum Confinement/
産褥の記 の書き抜き

Akiko Yosano, 
translated from Japanese by Marissa Skeels

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#1f4e78′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Excerpt from Postpartum Confinement Akiko Yosano, translated from Japanese by Marissa Skeels   A nurse waits in the prep-room next door. There is a small cooking stove in there, tea ware and hand towels, and a supply closet. It seems the sort of… Continue reading Excerpt from Postpartum Confinement/
産褥の記 の書き抜き

Akiko Yosano, 
translated from Japanese by Marissa Skeels

The Border Simulator
(Is This Language A Desert Also?)

Gabriel Dozal

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Has customs kept us from saying our favorite words as we cross? (madrugada, residiente, dentures,) or has customs left these worlds, sorry words, here in the desert to get picked at by the cultures, (ah! I keep tripping over these… Continue reading The Border Simulator
(Is This Language A Desert Also?)

Gabriel Dozal

Two Poems

Eloisa Amezcua

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] I Haven’t Masturbated in Five Daysfor Fear of Crying   her eyes closed the way my eyes sometimes close when I reach a hand  between my thighs              pretend they’re someone else’s fingers that slide  the unsexiest pair of panties I own… Continue reading Two Poems

Eloisa Amezcua

Transformations

Theophilus Kwek

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] on Meng Haoran’s “Spring Dawn” for Hong Kong   春曉 春眠不覺曉, 處處聞啼鳥。 夜來風雨聲, 花落知多少。      —孟浩然   0. The seasons have changed with a sudden force and the birds, who know, cannot keep the peace.   1. The peace, we know,… Continue reading Transformations

Theophilus Kwek

Rio Grande Valley Triptych

Lauren Espinoza

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] I Believers stream out the strip mall church: women with flowers in their hands, praising, as they walk toward the paletero. Timing his arrival to maximize sales to girls wearing white fold over socks, boys in ostrich boots and ties.… Continue reading Rio Grande Valley Triptych

Lauren Espinoza

Extermination

Tiphanie Yanique

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#372a55′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] The worst thing that ever happened to me happened to someone else. You know that story. About how I was there. How it was so loud, that field where we stood. How I saw the shuttle go up and up.… Continue reading Extermination

Tiphanie Yanique

Where Did You Go?

Beth Little

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#339999′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Remember that time we were running in the marsh behind my house, and I got stuck? Right in that spot between the tide river and the tall grass? Remember? I stepped right where my dad always told us to go around. “Careful… Continue reading Where Did You Go?

Beth Little

Three Poems

Lizzy Fox

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] How to Make Art   Even when I’m sick, when I feel the thorn of a sore throat prick my right tonsil, and I purr through a stuffed nose while I dream of spilling my coffee because I’m stumbling through… Continue reading Three Poems

Lizzy Fox

Muertos

Gabriela Denise Frank

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#372a55′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] On the Day of the Dead, souls of the departed return to earth to commune with loved ones. But I wasn’t at my mother’s grave in Phoenix, I was at a bar in Tucson, waiting for the parade. The silver… Continue reading Muertos

Gabriela Denise Frank

The Gift

Margo Lemieux

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#339999′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Chapter One The Boy   The boy shouldered the ax and carried the bucket down to the stream. These days the ice was harder to break up. Winter was coming. But today the air was mild and the stream still… Continue reading The Gift

Margo Lemieux

Four Monologues from Winesburg, Indiana, a small town between Fort Wayne and South Bend and not that far from Warsaw

Michael Martone

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#372a55′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Mario Talarico’s Peonies My favorite variety is the Eleanor Roosevelt. I am very conscientious in the spring. I stake and cage the plants. I am careful to deadhead the side branching buds to lessen the weight. I know, you are… Continue reading Four Monologues from Winesburg, Indiana, a small town between Fort Wayne and South Bend and not that far from Warsaw

Michael Martone

The Arkema Plant—Crosby, TX

Lupe Méndez

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] “The company had pulled its employees from the facility earlier this week out of concern for their safety, and warns that it expects more of the chemical storage containers to rupture as the materials degrade and burn. Residents within a… Continue reading The Arkema Plant—Crosby, TX

Lupe Méndez

Long Dash

John A. Nieves

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] The first five days read yellow against the window shade. The water                     pressure barely knew its way                                         through the pipes. We accordioned                       the hours on a damp queen with pale green sheets. It was always morning. The dew always… Continue reading Long Dash

John A. Nieves

The Otchka

Noah Weisz

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#339999′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] On a windy autumn morning in the city of Gholàr, Par and his mother set off for the Otchka. They left their small apartment pushing and pulling a massive old cart that shuddered and groaned at every cobblestone bump. Objects bounced, straining… Continue reading The Otchka

Noah Weisz

Crystal Vision, with Chrysalis

Jade Hurter

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] I wake in the middle of the night to whimpers. An angel shivers beside me, translucent as shadow. It vomits a chrysalis into my hand, sticky and green. Its red eyes ripple like pools. Where are the others? But the room contains… Continue reading Crystal Vision, with Chrysalis

Jade Hurter

Morning Walk: September 11, 2018

Amelia Martens

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Because you are five, I say airplanes crashed and you say where is our flag and I say look at those roses, breaking open—little mouths on our walk to school. You scuff and work out the equation: if airplanes crashed… Continue reading Morning Walk: September 11, 2018

Amelia Martens

No Tomorrow

Brad Rose

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] It’s a circular night and my blood is itchy. As soon as the now is over, I’m going to disentangle the amnesic kilowatts nestled inside these invisible particles. The house is still as a sleeping animal, and I’ve had it… Continue reading No Tomorrow

Brad Rose

In the Embassy of Silence

Tina Carlson

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] My mother fills paper boats with pastel mints, juice glasses with bourbon. The room shimmers with lit cigarettes. We watch the perfumed players sneak peeks at other hands, bet and bluff . Out back my father beats hedges with rusted… Continue reading In the Embassy of Silence

Tina Carlson

The Good Shepherd

Michael Nye

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#372a55′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Every eight weeks, a Fayetteville Farms truck delivered dogs to the Sullivan farm. A six-man crew unloaded crates of canines, each worker filing into the four industrial size barns and herding the dogs into neat rows and stacks of steel… Continue reading The Good Shepherd

Michael Nye

The Real Housewife of Orange County

Paul Tran

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] He forked a cube of tofu and stuck it in his pretty mouth. The sound of him chewing. Clink of metal against the ceramic I later cleaned, have always cleaned, can already see me cleaning, like the good wife I… Continue reading The Real Housewife of Orange County

Paul Tran

Benediction as Disdained Cuisine

Jihyun Yun

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#8f2f66′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Give me now what scalds and reeks. Give me chilis and garlic raw. Give me dropwort and chrysanthemum greens. Buckwheat and tea. The bite of a well ripened kimchi. Let me wrap my meat in what others mistake for spoil.… Continue reading Benediction as Disdained Cuisine

Jihyun Yun

Birth of Cool

Rita Banerjee

[av_hr class=’custom’ height=’50’ shadow=’no-shadow’ position=’center’ custom_border=’av-border-fat’ custom_width=’100%’ custom_border_color=’#1f4e78′ custom_margin_top=’30px’ custom_margin_bottom=’30px’ icon_select=’no’ custom_icon_color=” icon=’ue808′ font=’entypo-fontello’ admin_preview_bg=”] Lauren played her Gibson on the phone for me. Voodoo Child. Learning Hendrix one blistered finger at a time. Stairway to Heaven. A poster of Jimmy Page and Robert Plant hung on her bedroom wall. Plant made love to the microphone in… Continue reading Birth of Cool

Rita Banerjee