Latest Writing
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INTRODUCTION TO KORA RUMIKO & WAGO RYOICHI by Judy Halebsky
FIVE POEMSby Ryoichi Wago, trans. Judy Halebsky & Ayako Takahashi THREE POEMSby Rumiko Kora, trans. Judy Halebsky & Ayako Takahashi This folio shares recent translations from two Japanese poets, Kora Rumiko (1932-2021) and Wago Ryoichi (1968-). Kora’s poems are from the second half and 20th century, and Wago’s were written following the 2011 earthquake, tsunami,…
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MONTHLY with Alexander Duringer
Alexander Duringer is from Buffalo, NY and earned his MFA in Poetry from North Carolina State University. He is a winner of the American Academy of Poets Prize as well as the Bruce & Marjorie Petesch Award. In 2022 he was a finalist for The Sewanee Review’s annual poetry contest. His poems have appeared or…
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INTERVIEW WITH Alexander Duringer
Alexander Duringer is from Buffalo, NY and earned his MFA in Poetry from North Carolina State University. He is a winner of the American Academy of Poets Prize as well as the Bruce & Marjorie Petesch Award. In 2022 he was a finalist for The Sewanee Review’s annual poetry contest. His poems have appeared or…
POETRY
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BONE ATLAS by Allison Zhang
Seventeen pounds— the gospel weight of a skeleton. Mine is lighter, I think. It whistles in the wind. The body, a country I was told not to settle— its borders or cities. I dreamed I was salt, crushed, dissolving in rain. The nurses said hydrate, singing it soft. But thirst is a clever animal—…
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HOLLYWOOD FOREVER CEMETERY by Hannah V Warren
Los Angeles, CA dear hollywood Snapshot Paint me indian Peafowl …
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SELF-PORTRAIT AS THE LAST LINGERING PETAL ON A CHERRY BLOSSOM by Anthony Thomas Lombardi
more than the millions of unsung buried in the potter’s field off pelham bay, more than the estuary where tides fold freshwater into saltwater & spit their bones into a knot of krill, mackerel, menhaden, pale glow like a stray moon wandered to the wrong side of the cosmos, slunk in a lost shark’s…
FICTION
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MEMORY FIELDS by Liz Howey
The orchard is beautiful. Meets the postcard standard of picturesque, as promised. Lines of foliage haloed by the rising sun, shades of green and brown and golden red, and for a second Maggie slips, imagines her and Brendon and a child that won’t exist. A little girl—no, a boy, a little arrogant boy, a mini-Brendon.…
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VERDIGRIS by Mariana Sabino
Four years had passed since I returned to this building, the old city, and the old job. At work digitizing the poster of another Czech New Wave film—this one depicting algae sprouting from a woman’s head, dark eyes sparkling with silver pin lights that reminded me of plankton—my heart started racing so fast I handed…
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ASHES by Nandita Naik
The river Ganga seethes with ashes. We shove our elbows into each other’s sides, muscle our way in to look. The bodies of our grandmothers and grandfathers burn on the cremation ghats. We watch them become less like bodies and more like a collection of burning fabric and bone marrow and veins turning into ash.…
TRANSLATION
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RADISH FLOWER by Jang Seoknam, trans. Paulette Guerin and Claire Su-Yeon Park
Is a path one travels alone also a road? The radish flower has bloomedalong a hidden pathafter others have been planted. In the swamp, the radish flower has bloomedwithout a flag,without a flagpole,its heart coming alone, late spring arriving with only its body.Woo woo. Like a Molotov Cocktail,I bloomed late, among the radish flowers.Roads ahead and behind are…
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TWO POEMS by Beatriz Pérez Pereda trans. Colleen Noland
“Untitled” Lucía nursed her anguish for thirty-six years (she didn’t know sadness is an animal that doesn’t understand flattery). There are no pictures of her: she was afraid of the eye in the camera lens, since it was said it could bewitch a soul and make feet clumsy on cliffs. Everything about her is a…
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MOTHER TONGUE by Adil Tuniyaz trans. Munawwar Abdulla
We were born like goldon this sparkling brown land. It fell, ringingfrom the mouth of an Uyghur angel,its music sunk into our ears.Oh, mother tongue,we became wanderers,and have moved far from your horizons. Opium poppiesbring the scent of the seas,thoughts kept moist for a while. I have left the radio on.It speaksin the wind. Cool…
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