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October 5, 2022 | Poetry

3 poems

Cash Compson

Mouth like the

moon. Until death,

be excited. Déjà vu

you’ve never had.

3 poems photo
I'm Really Really Really Sorry photo

September 30, 2022 | Fiction

I'm Really Really Really Sorry

Sam Berman

Above the tree line, the sky has turned the color of a day-old bruise. The reception has begun to clear. Whichever uncle had parked his motorcycle in the driveway was now gone.  
 

Alex Perez on The Iowa Writers’ Workshop, baseball, growing up Cuban-American in Miami & saying goodbye to the literary community photo

September 29, 2022 | Interview

Alex Perez on The Iowa Writers’ Workshop, baseball, growing up Cuban-American in Miami & saying goodbye to the literary community

Elizabeth Ellen

What connects people isn’t color or creed or gender or stupid political taxonomies, but the existential despair that comes for us all. How do you respond to that despair once it comes for you? I never feel closer to a person than when they share a piece of their despair with me, and rarely, if ever, does it have anything to do with politics or ideology. It’s always about loneliness or heartbreak or loss, etc. It’s about life. The best art reflects that despair we all face back at us; it doesn’t separate us from other people.

Can’t remember the last time I had a hard-on photo

September 29, 2022 | Nonfiction

Can’t remember the last time I had a hard-on

Kristian O'Hare

Now I bake bread to stay busy, to not think about dying.