FOUR WAY REVIEW

An Electronic Literary Journal

  • ISSUE 36

    ISSUE 36

    Poetry PERIHELION by Ben Kline INCOMPLETENESS THEOREM by Eleanor Stanford I CONSIDER WHAT TO SAY WHEN THE DOCTOR ASKS ME TO DESCRIBE MY PAIN by Emma Bolden TWO POEMS by…

    Read more…: ISSUE 36

Latest Writing

  • MONTHLY with Alexander Duringer

    MONTHLY with Alexander Duringer

    —

    by

    Four Way Review
    in

    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…

  • INTERVIEW WITH Alexander Duringer

    INTERVIEW WITH Alexander Duringer

    —

    by

    Alexander Duringer
    in

    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…

  • INTERVIEW WITH Jared Harél by Urvashi Bahuguna

    INTERVIEW WITH Jared Harél by Urvashi Bahuguna

    —

    by

    Jared Harél
    in ,

    Jared Harel’s poems are quiet records of the layers inside the ordinary days of our lives, exposing the restless forces and memories that power and threaten our most mundane actions. In “Behind The Painted Railguard,” the poet is standing in an amusement park with his mother, watching his young son on a ride. He uses…

POETRY

  • THEODOR ADORNO IN LOS ANGELES, 1941 by Grace Alvino

    THEODOR ADORNO IN LOS ANGELES, 1941 by Grace Alvino

    —

    by

    Grace Alvino
    in ,

    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…

  • SYRINX by Alison Mandaville

    SYRINX by Alison Mandaville

    —

    by

    Alison Mandaville
    in ,

      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.…

  • 90% DARK by Dina Folgia

    90% DARK by Dina Folgia

    —

    by

    Dina Folgia
    in ,

      The earth did not take me when I was nine, and I hated the earth for it. Each time I came to the place where the lake met the park and pressed my back into the soggy grooves at the boat launch, I flattened and flattened. When I couldn’t sink any lower into the…

FICTION

  • VERDIGRIS by Mariana Sabino

    VERDIGRIS by Mariana Sabino

    —

    by

    Mariana Sabino
    in ,

    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…

  • ASHES by Nandita Naik

    ASHES by Nandita Naik

    —

    by

    Nandita Naik
    in ,

    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.…

  • DON’T CALL ME YOUR PRINCESS by Megan Culhane Galbraith

    DON’T CALL ME YOUR PRINCESS by Megan Culhane Galbraith

    —

    by

    Megan Culhane Galbraith
    in ,

    Once upon a time, there was a young girl who lost her mother too soon. Cinderella’s grief was bottomless. Every day she visited her mother’s grave. “Where is my great love?” she asked. One day her mother answered.  “Cinder, dear, your great love is inside you. You must be yourself, for it is only then…

TRANSLATION

From the Archives

Join our mailing list

Receive new issues and featured work in your inbox.