Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
Spell for Burning Gender with a line from Elizabeth Bishop Call on the moon: illuminate! For night recalls the ache of barely kindled flame and I the sweat in which our bodies met— the dance untimed and breath like antlers crowned our pleasant sacrifice. Eight limbs entwined as gender burned away, so what remained were iridescent skeletons expel -ling plumes of turquoise breath. Rebirth…
Dress Up The men in my family tell me American girls love American boys in the dark. I asked my grandfather how to dress. He wasn’t sure what “American boys” wore so he dressed me like my brother. Who wore only polo shirts and wanted to go to Yale. He left for New Haven as I crawled through the spice cabinet. I can almost smell…
At the time of writing, we as a planet are still soundly in the uncertain time of COVID-19, and especially now there is no shortage of things vying for our collective attention. Every day feels unprecedented, and in such an abnormal state it can be difficult to create art, and even more difficult, perhaps, to pull within ourselves the motivation to deploy it into a…
Contributors Share their Thoughts on Labor, Writing, and the Current Climate While creating this issue, we thought about labor as both noun and verb, tangible and intangible. We discussed how labor is often hidden from view, how it can be private or public. How it can be an act of love or something that must be endured. Labor is often categorized—by type, by value—and that…
Contributors Share their Thoughts on Labor, Writing, and the Current Climate While creating this issue, we thought about labor as both noun and verb, tangible and intangible. We discussed how labor is often hidden from view, how it can be private or public. How it can be an act of love or something that must be endured. Labor is often categorized—by type, by value—and that…