The Indicator
PROSE
- Spiced Apple CakeBy MACKENZIE DUNSON
The last thing my mother made for me was an apple spice cake. She always took pride in it because of the expansive apple tree that was the luminary of our backyard. It has always been the most beautiful thing about our house. The branches reaching for the sky, leaves and breath filling my own lungs, its fruit filling my stomach, and its blossoms filling my mind….Continue Reading Spiced Apple Cake - CHRISTMAS GIFTBy SARAH WU
I learned to be wrapped from a young age. Underneath a Christmas tree, I sat below their pine bottoms. Dangling lights brushed my forehead. Taught how presents should be dressed in lovely colors. Taught to be an object, paper wrapping hiding the curve of the natural body within…Continue Reading CHRISTMAS GIFT - konbini By MIKIKO SUGA
Every summer is a tradition of disappearing. There are times to be corporeal, and other times to dematerialize. It may simply be a matter of traversing impermanent boundaries, where one simply consumes what is in front of them. There is no need to contemplate too deeply, because something is always at risk of breaking if I do. …Continue Reading konbini
- In Lieu of LanguageMADI SUH
in lieu of language, / i stuff my mouth. / i do not know how to say the words for all the banchan. / i only know how to eat, / how to be hungry, how to ask for more….Continue Reading In Lieu of Language - Rose Colored BoxesBy RUTH ZURAW
Our morning-stretched shadows / graze, overlap on the pavement— / heat curling around calves / in gentle waves. …Continue Reading Rose Colored Boxes - Growing PainsBy FEDORA LIU
So sugary sweet / It rotted my teeth // Back then there were boundless pools of sap here / I thought I would never go hungry // I thought I would live forever….Continue Reading Growing Pains
POETRY
Featured Fiction
CLARA CHIU
But I can feel your impatience. I am narrating this to you, Mother, so that you will remember me for more than a memory. — What is your obsession with letters? you would say. This is what you said when I told you I was going to spend the rest of my life studying words.
Art Gallery
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Featured Poem
LILA SCHLISSEL
The best thing about having
two eyes wriggling around in your
head like minnows is that they
have already learned to blur
and your retina is cracked and crumbling