RYOGO KATAHIRA
I can give “meanings” to any object, any. One may even claim that I make a thing beyond just an object. Many people think I am a fraud, but I am different. …Continue Reading AT THE CORNER OF “AMERICA”
Category: 2024 Spring
The Things You Gave Me
MACKENZIE DUNSON
The first thing that you gave me was a drawing. Scribbled in the margins of my notes, insignficant in theory, but boundless in reality. It was a figure, one that I didn’t know, maybe one that you had made up in that head of yours, maybe one that came from one of the many shows that you loved and I don’t think I’d ever me able to understand. …Continue Reading The Things You Gave Me
Notes from Nothing
WILLOW DELP
Hold it. Drop it. Shake it. Bite it. / Love it, hate it, leave it. Leave. It– / is fleeting; everything rots. / Nothing is forever. You will be the one to leave first….Continue Reading Notes from Nothing
AMERICAN SHOPPING LIST
CLARA CHIU
Before you leave, don’t forget the butter, the quart of chicken broth, the onions and parsley – we’re almost out of milk, too, and patience; we need thyme for seasoning and rosemary for remembrance, because when the silence becomes real, the creeping uncertainties draw you back: it’s the fact that a cookbook is a product of trial and experimentation…Continue Reading AMERICAN SHOPPING LIST
Tell me what you miss
ELLA LIN
I miss lemons. I miss sun-baked milk. I miss heat. / I miss the melted wads of spit and honey / drying on rain-rusted brick / the chipped bits of baby bamboo / roaming through golden water….Continue Reading Tell me what you miss
All That’s Left
EMILY WYKOFF
All I have left are the things you said / That’s it, nothing tangible / No one would ever know you were here / In my too-small-to-be-a-single dorm…Continue Reading All That’s Left
The Inn
ELIZA BECKER
Izza and Mila were the only two Jews staying at the Inn. All the other inn-goers were in neat groups of four, of mother, father, and two dear children, while Mila and Izza were just the pair. …Continue Reading The Inn
Fertility
ANNIKA BAJAJ
She’s walking through the woods by her house. The trees grow whole trees instead of branches, and soon enough she’s clambering through sideways, upside-down, criss-crossing, tangled trees. …Continue Reading Fertility
Took Me A Whole Sixth Rewatch of Glee & Golden Girls
SIANI AMMONS
that Maybe it’s time I clean the silver veins from my bones / w/ Dawn Original Scent Ultra Dishwashing Sadness Melter & when it’s done, / heat my melted sadness, & try not to flinch at my reflection in the weeping…Continue Reading Took Me A Whole Sixth Rewatch of Glee & Golden Girls
Why Do I Like My Poetry?
SHREYA HEDGE
I can see people’s desires hiding underneath trees, and I can watch the liquid confidence rushing in my arms. I can hide and tuck my emotions in the undersides of a wave. The ground sparkles, and my insides sparkle alongside because of poetry….Continue Reading Why Do I Like My Poetry?
Autumn Breeze
DAVIS RENNELLA
To the forest that is nearing its yearly dying and shedding its million leaves about the soil, the bodies of once living things. I decided to go on the day your favorite maple tree became bare and surrendered to the seasons. …Continue Reading Autumn Breeze
The Hoarder
By VENUMI GAMAGE At times, I close my eyes, and the weight of my face dawns on me. Cheekbones upon which the cheekflesh sits, threatening to this time for sure slip right off and be lost. Too full a lower lip, and an even fuller upper, but what registers is always the way the corners…Continue Reading The Hoarder
The Shella We Used to Call Home
CRAWFORD DAWSON
I watched the gentle rain patter lightly on the windowpane against which I had been resting my head. Each drop slowly flowed down the pane, coalescing into larger pearls, which proceeded to fall in turn to collide with other translucent pearls. The coolness of the glass had eased the heat, which was on the precipice of overtaking what constituted me….Continue Reading The Shella We Used to Call Home
To You
LELAND CULVER
I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know how long it will be before you read this. The company that ran this facility—that runs this whole moon, really—they’re powerful, and a lot of smart people work for them, but they’re certainly not safe, and they don’t tell the truth.
…Continue Reading To You
Turtles in the Mud
LAINEY NOGA
A turtle is perched atop a leaf, / Floating in muddy water. / From up above, bobs up and down, / He tells me to hop on. // Floating in that muddy water, / New leaves are springing up. / He tells me to hop on so / Together we can grow….Continue Reading Turtles in the Mud
I Write American
PRISCILLA LEE
What I am about to tell you is completely fiction. I never met a man named Stewart—or as we called him, Stewie—and I never tried to make him mine….Continue Reading I Write American
there was a door that i knew
SARAH WU
and i knew it intimately, the wooden door that sat in front of my room. it was a friendly presence, solid, and comforting. it held up the drooping ceiling of the white, caving plaster, and kept the little mice in the kitchen out of my bed. …Continue Reading there was a door that i knew
Remembrance
GRACIE ROWLAND
My father’s oversized leather jacket is the first item I’d save in a fire. It has a broken zipper from my heated impatience and a splotch of neon green acrylic paint on the left pocket from my tired clumsiness….Continue Reading Remembrance
Slow Death of the Generic Tree Drawing
GABBY AVENA
If it’s okay, I would like to start with the tree, / tenderlined and vanishing. / Focus your eyes on the leaves / which are not leaves as much as / they are bushels which are not bushels / as much as they are clots of cotton fiber…Continue Reading Slow Death of the Generic Tree Drawing
all these things a( )part
JIHYUN PAIK
1. A thing in the sense of being present-at-hand … / 2. Thing in the sense in which it means whatever is named but which includes also plans, decisions, reflections, loyalties, actions, historical things ……Continue Reading all these things a( )part
Fools Taking Root
JORGE RODRIGUEZ JR.
Well, I figured I shouldn’t go alone. The woods grow too thick out past the first few miles. After them woods, it’s real tranquil. The sky grows arid, the world seems still out there. A fire goes nice, but too much fire runs the real big holes dry. If you look in the right spots, you can still find ones that light. Once it lights, it’s good for a night or two. That’s why we oughta head out early. …Continue Reading Fools Taking Root
To You
LELAND CULVER
I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know how long it will be before you read this. The company that ran this facility—that runs this whole moon, really—they’re powerful, and a lot of smart people work for them, but they’re certainly not safe, and they don’t tell the truth….Continue Reading To You
May this Bald Body Bring Us
LEYDN MCEVOY
The other day, you pointed out the window / to the glorious hills we call mountains. / These trees tall with secrets, ours– / their tops we cannot see, only dream to, and I forget how little your hand fixes your hair. …Continue Reading May this Bald Body Bring Us
Dear Diary
MADI SUH
these days all my thoughts have begun to feel like letters to you / sometimes it hurts to think. talking to you is easier. / and so, / hi. / i have not been creative as of late. / lately you have begun to take residence inside some part of me; in particular, you do spend a lot of time in my head. / hi….Continue Reading Dear Diary
Untitled
MARIAM BESHIDZE
When does a body become a thing? / When it stares from beyond the glass / At the conglomeration of people surrounding it, / Shedding tears on a Persian carpet. / When it cannot smell the patchwork / of dead flowers laying on top of it. …Continue Reading Untitled
Self Portrait As The Thing Left in the End
MEL ARTHUR
In the shower, the hot water has taken time to start a revolution. I figured now is not the time to put my hands together to ask for grace. Though I wonder what could satisfy me, hear the hum from the back of my knees…Continue Reading Self Portrait As The Thing Left in the End
Lingering Touch Imprint Services Case 0822-1
MIKE ROSENTHAL
Before grabbing the knocker, Munroe pulled on his gloves so he wouldn’t pick up accidental prints. The morning job was a mundane one, and the clients wouldn’t notice his dedication to the rules, but Munroe had principles. He recalled the comment his boss left…Continue Reading Lingering Touch Imprint Services Case 0822-1
Tell me if you’ll answer, and I’ll remember how to ask
NICOLE ITKIN
When I reach out, what am I reaching– / for? / (my) / Flowers blearily / stare out the windows, / Orchids: at midnight, red-robed
They kiss
the glass, lips pursued,
smudging the Clear
they’ll forget about;
Soothing,
forgetting…Continue Reading Tell me if you’ll answer, and I’ll remember how to ask
I Write American
PRISCILLA LEE
Never in my life have I been on a road trip. That’s some American shit, and I’m not American, only read tons of American fiction, and I mean Oregon-to-Massachusetts-lorry-truck tons. Never been to America, don’t know if they use “tonnes” or “tons,” or if they call them lorries. …Continue Reading I Write American
CARMEX
SARAH DOWN
slick slippery sticky / I try I try I try / to wash this nauseating nostalgia off. / my nineteen-year-old knuckles / gently bruised – busted yellow / by my fifteen years of fingers / searching blindly under the couch for my nine year old self …Continue Reading CARMEX