from MW: A Field Guide to the Midwest
What my parents were most silent about was what they hated more than anything. They were professionals afterall, and to be professional means keeping one’s mouth shut. When my… More
An Excerpt from Dick
But each place is well and each well a hole encircled by hunters on their hams with spears listening between the broken and whole words into the darkness below… More
Two Poems by Hoa Nguyen
Screaming mostly / I like to dance dark woods / stony hills lonely & moody /… More
From the Arhcives: A Time for Everything, Karl Ove Knausgaard
She realized that living was just what it was not. That a will of its own was just what it did not have. It was dead and blind and… More
Two Poems by Derek Gromadzki
how saints have bent slender here under orisons and absence / over which appearance tips and we the steadying More
A Story in Which I Look Good
If he feels pushed, he will turn into a bull, a storm. If the world is not careful, he will lower his horns. I am not sure the men… More
Red Storm Days
Twenty-four descriptions of the future: / Champagne after a trip in a carriage, / Discontents without civilization, / A bizarre light will unsteady the air More
The Cripple’s Last Dance
Dance, like any other art, is a form of worship, you see. One false move can break that fragile link between you and your god. I lost my legs. More
Four Poems by Wong May
Today again / The Pastoral / sounds like a funeral march / : the dream of / a statesman / waking up in heaven / Bearing with… More
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