July 29, 2021 | Poetry
Steady State Phenomenon in Muharraq Before
Natasha Burge
Steady State Phenomenon in Muharraq Before
This is the invention of a spectacle. The verge of fungible wealth, dirigibles
of electricity. A thunder of dust and rickshaw sermons in Muharraq
July 27, 2021 | Poetry
Three Poems
Andy Tran
Playin’_The_Keys
i love to dance, sing, write, chill, read
and play the keys, but sometimes, life
doesn’t allow me to hang out
and do my thing, which means
i have to divide my time into many
July 26, 2021 | Fiction
Winter Tangerine
Mira Jiang
Your fingers began peeling the fruit, tossing orange scraps among the dirty straw. In the right light, they could have passed for blood.
July 25, 2021 | Rejected Modern Love Essay
From HI-fi to Spotify: A mixed tape for my daughter
Emily Franklin
Here’s the thing about choosing songs to give as gifts to people: it starts off being about them but really, it’s about you.
Three Poems
Lily Greenberg
The Census Taker Asks Me to Tell Her About Myself
Well Terri, I’m afraid
of catfish—not their tunneling mouths,
but the paradoxical combination
of predator and prey in cat/fish—
I’m afraid of
For I Have Sinned
Sean Dolan
My son is fifteen when he asks the first question I am unable to answer.
Everyone Eventually Leaves LA
Heidi Seaborn
When the Santa Anas whipped into town, everyone became a little crazier. They invited the wildfires as if to burn the witches amongst us.
Island
Wilson Koewing
Upon receiving the Pritzker Prize at 42, Welk gained a modest international celebrity and spent his 40s and early 50s galivanting around Europe, Southeast Asia and various island nations overseeing a dizzying array of projects that he believed, in some small way, changed the world for the better.
We Met At A Protest
Emily García
In early June of the never-ending 2020, I attended an anti-curfew, anti-police terror demonstration in my hometown of Oakland, California.
It was a warm evening as myself and a couple friends
7 reasons I have not gotten my IUD replaced
Grace Kearney
Junior year of college, he touched the scab on the crease of my mouth where concealer failed me. I get these in the winter too, he said, and then, I have a cream.
Dispatches from the Treehouse: Rooting for Oakland
Joseph Horton
It’s all about the timing
It’s as simple and invasive as a chime on my phone. A banner news alert, which, for most people, involves elections and wars and natural disasters and celebrity
Gift Shop at the OCME
Liz Fyne
At the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, I browse the gift shop. It’s scented lavender from a leg-shaped diffuser in the corner.
Product Placement
Daniel Fraser
My last suicide attempt was in a park called Jesus Green. I said ‘last’ because I gave up, not because it worked. Writing plays tricks with life and death so you need to make things clear.
I’m Writing from the Other Side of the Universe to Ask You How the Weather Is
Jenny KangDi Li
I’m Writing from the Other Side of the Universe to Ask You How the Weather Is
This is a soft rain, my father says, his forehead a creased encyclopedia page. It is mao mao yu in Chinese, syllables
I Planned to Ask You to Prom
Cassidy Bull
Seventeen days since you spoke your last words to me. They repeat themselves in my mind, I never want to forget them.
Reimagining with Mexican Candy
Moisés R. Delgado
I am not a pinch, a spoonful, a half a cup of light rivering down into the stomach where, I should know, the heart truly resides.
A Fast Life
Jamie Alliotts
George Simmons used to sling crack on 42nd St.—why his uptown boys always called him The Midtown Turn. Now he’s 54—and everybody calls him Pop. He’s been running the streets for decades. “The streets
Reflections and Insults
Robert Lopez
I didn’t turn around because I wasn’t entirely sure my name was being called and even so there was no one I wanted to talk to on the street in the middle of this particular Tuesday.
Twice Shot
Michael Farfel
The first time I was shot I was fifteen and I deserved it. I broke into a run-down lurch, an ancient moonshiners' abandoned cabin in the forest.
Facing Charges
Ben Nickol
And yet, and yet, from the rear pew of my mind came a rude slurping as my straw probed the ice of a Pepsi.
My Boyfriend Who Lives in Canada
jen ly
We get back together, because of course we do. He is better, now. Therapy helps both of us.
None of This is Okay
Sara Heise Graybeal
Dan texted his wife before going on the ventilator. She shares most things on Facebook, and she has disclosed this last message, too.
For Your Consideration
Adrián Pérez
Consideration of Deferred Action for Chilhood Arrivals
This is when your humanity ends, when a pen hits this paper.