Latest Writing
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SEPTEMBER INTERVIEW with Julia Thacker
Julia Thacker’s debut collection To Wildness was recently awarded the Anthony Hecht prize by Paul Muldoon. The book makes its way through the wilds of New England, grieving the family born and buried there. To Wildness is enamored with the world of sense, yet lingers close to the realm of the dead. It is elegiac,…
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JUNE INTERVIEW WITH STEVEN ESPADA DAWSON
Late to the Search Party is the debut collection of Steven Espada Dawson, exploring the individual and precise depths papered over by common nouns like ‘grief’ and ‘family’. The elegiac collection delves into Dawson’s love and grief for his dying mother, the decades-long absence of his addict brother, and the absence of a father, with…
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MAY INTERVIEW WITH SOPHIA TERAZAWA
When readers first meet the narrator of Sophia Terazawa’s novel, Tetra Nova, published by Deep Vellum Publishing in March, they have just been trampled by an elephant, returning to consciousness inside what seems to be the body of a panda. Soon after, the narrator tumbles again, this time awakening as Emi, a young girl with…
POETRY
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HYPERPHAGIA, OR FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE by Matty Layne Glasgow
Famished, he did not understand hungeruntil it fueled a metamorphosis. An animal does what he does. A boy, thin and lithe,grows with each taste: his mother’s milk, a crabapple pawed from its branch. Later,a man’s tongue. Come spring, fur meadows his once-pink skin, hangs loose from a belly,from fragile limbs. Soft, love can leave one…
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Two Poems by Margaret Wright
Memorial who’s awake right nowin Utah this cinema of long hair, God in undergrad, youngest cousin in the youngest lake, we’ll bring a baby next time, my sister says, we’ll bring a kid, & then we drive away thinking about aunt becki, todd, black hair,…
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BRUSQUE RECITAL by Christopher Brean Murray
A scarab beetle steeps in spruce shade. “Vast and inhospitable” is how his vision was described. The urn was unearthed in pristine condition. “Beware the maelstrom,” she said with a smile. I realized the gorge was behind the house. The seminar was long and exclusively cerebral. The party: brief and mood-altering. Do you remember the…
FICTION
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THE GATEWAY by Laura Wolf Benziker
Mina, in the passenger seat, was lulled by the vibration of the car. Her skull knocked against the tempered glass in a not-unpleasant way. Her eyelids sank and darkened, then flicked open every few minutes. She saw exotic colors: swaths of glowing terra cotta, deep violet shadows, a sky so blue she only half recognized…
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RUN by Katherine Vondy
There is a room at the end of my hallway. Its door is always shut. Shut, but not locked. Inside the room there is a girl. Fifteen, dirty-blond hair, thin. Most of the time she lies on the bed, headphones on, listening to something with lyrics, mouthing vaguely along. She holds a pen against the…
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THE JUNIPER 3 by Trudy Lewis
No one even remembered our dad’s sad song until Tate brought it back on TikTok. The angst and the ecstasy. The emo vocals and the math rock chord progressions. The long and whining bridge between curt, accusatory verses. My mother killed me My father ate me My sister gathered up my bones I’d heard it…
TRANSLATION
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URGENT: NEWS OF THE DEATH OF HIBA ABU NADA by João Melo, trans. G. Holleran
Excuse my urgency, oh right-thinking beingsespecially you translucentand self-referential poets,but one of our sisters,the Palestinian poet Hiba Abu Nada,has just died in Gaza under the shrapnel of a benevolent bomb,sent by another God,different from the one she spoke withevery day. I hesitated to convey this fateful newsso hastily. Perhaps I should waitfor the leaden grey…
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FOUR POEMS by Olivia Elias, trans. Jérémy Victor Robert
Day 21, Words Are Too Poor, October 28, 2023 words are too poor but I have only themmy only wealthempty my hands & so great the sufferings here again I press my arms around my chesthere again I get into this old habit…
From the Archives
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