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December 1, 2021 | Nonfiction

Because Mid-Meal, My Mother Says “Now Don’t Write About This”; Or, The Tyranny of We

Sandra Beasley

But to write We thought is a fiction.
We always felt that…the moment you write this phrase, you have lied.

Because Mid-Meal, My Mother Says “Now Don’t Write About This”; Or, The Tyranny of We photo
Act V photo

November 30, 2021 | Poetry

Act V

Evy Shen

I ask you to toss me something heavier than your name
to hold, less perishable than the peonies stolen
fresh as bruises.

The Reformer photo

November 29, 2021 | Fiction

The Reformer

Claudia Ross

I looked up at Rudy, his back hitting the air like a ruler. The mind is an act of balance, he said, looking at me. It is a lever for the body.

Sylvère Lotringer is dead photo

November 28, 2021 | fucked up modern love essays

Sylvère Lotringer is dead

Danielle Chelosky

Our hypothetical date tomorrow is at a show for the band Tennis. I have never heard of them, but I trust him. I say I will work my magic to get us in.