Latest Writing
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DECEMBER MONTHLY: INTERVIEW WITH JIMIN SEO
Jimin Seo is the author of OSSIA, his debut collection of poetry. Winner of the The Changes Press Book prize, judged by Louise Glück, OSSIA blends the voices of the dead with the living, resulting in a symphonic exploration into migration, dislocation, familial bonds, love, and loss. Seo textures his manuscript with poems in both…
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OCTOBER MONTHLY: Interview with Salvatore Pane
We’re excited to share a new series of interviews exploring craft. In these conversations, we’ve asked writers to take us behind the scenes of their finished works, showing us the process behind the poem, the scene, and the story. Last month, we spoke with Jessica E. Johnson, on her memoir Mettlework: A Mining Daughter on…
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SEPTEMBER MONTHLY: Interview with Jessica E. Johnson
We’re excited to share a new series of interviews exploring craft. In these conversations, we’ve asked writers to take us behind the scenes of their finished works, showing us the process behind the poem, the scene, and the story. First is our conversation with Jessica E. Johnson, on her memoir Mettlework: A Mining Daughter on…
POETRY
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THREE POEMS by Winshen Liu
Attendance Spread across chairs, the stairs, the floor, we sit as twoaunts call roll: How many dumplings will you eat? Six, eight, ten. My mother tallies our appetites, 正正正on a doctor’s old note to see if we can spring for them at five cents each. All of us want a breakfrom the bentos—all the rice…
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THEODOR ADORNO IN LOS ANGELES, 1941 by Grace Alvino
When they put him in California in the bare sun he called it violence, and that—the refusal above all—was how they knew him. Staring into the bleached tarmac.A wool suit in the Pacific Palisades. On the garden patio, he sat with a monographhe’d carried through Oxford, through New York, and read it in the glare…
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SYRINX by Alison Mandaville
After five years it’s a vague harassment, your name in a stranger’s mouth, my ear, a soft punch up from the gurney. Still— slight birds wake me with such repetitions: the branch point adjustment of throat valves, labia in tension, not warm, not cold-blooded. A liquid resonation, two resonations, a final exhalation of atmosphere.…
FICTION
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NEVER ENOUGH by Dustin M. Hoffman
April worked Hector’s hair into pigtail braids. “I fucking love you,” she said and then hated herself for sounding cheesy as bullshit TV, like burnt sugar on her tongue. She’d unplug every TV, yank a million miles of cable wires, just so she could be the only one saying stupid things. She finished the second…
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DOG by Jade Song
Taihu’s dense clouds roll along its shores like mini roiling hurricanes, their unfriendly eyes trained on Sengru, who hops nimbly from one flat stone to the next, his own eyes scrutinizing the ground, searching for gongshi. Visibility along the lake is poor today, but he is intimate with these paths, could even leap the rocky…
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AXOLOTL BY ANTHONY GOMEZ III
When wildlife conservationists released a dozen axolotls into the waterways in an abandoned town not far from Guadalajara, they were surprised to see the pink salamanders swim within the water for less than a minute. The endangered creatures jumped out of the pool on their own. Eleven of them moved to the side and chose…
TRANSLATION
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FOUR POEMS by Ryoichi Wago, trans. Judy Halebsky & Ayako Takahashi
Screening Time November 26th, 2011 —exiting the restricted area, a 20 km radius of the power station screening palms screening the back of my hands screening with my hands up screening with my hands down screening over my head screening …
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THREE POEMS by Rumiko Kora, trans. Judy Halebsky & Ayako Takahashi
Alive, the wind lifts seeds and carries them awayspider eggs hatch and depart on the windover years the wind breaks down plants into soilwe are of the wind and all of our sensesthe wind breathing through us Within the Trees, A Universe -Sacred Forest of Kinabatangan, Malaysia…
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SONG FOR AMERICA by Jacques Viau Renaud trans. Ariel Francisco
America, sitting atop the night’s shoulderssinging in the faces of the hungrydeciphering the language of sadnessmeasuring the modulation of hatred in our children’s stomachs.America, they’ve stolen your joydestroying the muscles in your facetied your heart to the vigilwhere thousands of beings wanderinhabited by death,a death we drag since men, from beyond,buried his sword, before your…
From the Archives
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