Sebastian Bronson Boddie

Sebastian Bronson Boddie

I am learning what men do and why they do it. Today, my father / teaches me fear. Mother watches from the house. I watch as if I am outside // myself

Robin Rosen Chang

Robin Rosen Chang

It’s something about the goats. / When I go to see them, they rush / to the side of the pen where I stand

Dušan Mitana

Dušan Mitana

For a moment, the whole pub seemed paralysed by the affront. It’s him, it’s him, he doesn’t want beer, he doesn’t want beer—the words carried from one table to the next, and the spark jumped all the way outside.

Simona Bohatá

Simona Bohatá

“I’m pregnant, Einstein…” Magda told him at the end of the summer. “You need to come with me and appeal to the commission…” She sat calmly in front of him as if this was something she did every other day.

Pete Prokesch

Pete Prokesch

My algorithm and I go way back. His name is Allen. And Allen has helped me through some tough times.

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The Fall Issue | 2024

The Fall Issue | 2024

At long last, our Fall 2024 issue is here. Check back daily throughout the month of November to read a true harvest of poems, stories, art, and criticism that we’ve curated for you this autumn.

Read the Editorial »

Carolyn Oliver

Wine river of melted crowns / calls me home from the forest. // On the bank I drift, I mark / my bright axe laid down to rest.

Justin Lacour

those days won’t come back but at least we don’t have to talk in complete sentences now

Sarah Carey

When the rain slowed, I walked the dog / from whom I wrested one bottlecap, one shoe. // Clicked on a link to a network of bail funds, / found my country, my state. Hovered.

Carolyn Oliver

Wine river of melted crowns / calls me home from the forest. // On the bank I drift, I mark / my bright axe laid

Sarah Wetzel

My strangeness as unsavable / as the herd / on the other side of this wall / that will, at a single sound, run full

Sebastian Bronson Boddie

I am learning what men do and why they do it. Today, my father / teaches me fear. Mother watches from the house. I watch

Ivy Grimes

How many times did I tell the children? We got this by a stroke of luck, and to luck it might return. Don’t fold it

Michael Harper

Mom ruined her $350 wedding dress running barefoot through a cornfield. The hem gathered silky topsoil like the wind.

Elena Negrón

I got spit on while I was walking down the street, going home after a bad date with the son of a guy who wrote

Michael Hardin

I have never had a particularly good imagination. Really, it’s kind of dire. It irritates my wife that I can’t imagine a future. I’m not

Diane Simmons

Diane Simmons

There must be thousands of us non-Southerners with similar secret histories, people who profited from the crime of slavery and continue to do so.

Paul Hostovsky: Pitching for the Apostates | Book Review

Hostovsky’s fondness for words and keen ear for spoken language benefit his writing: he can record and create dialogue in a brilliant and natural way. In this respect, he has more in common with short-story writers than with most contemporary poets, who tend to avoid direct speech.

Interview with Artist Anna Hawkins

Anna Hawkins is an artist who works primarily in moving image and installation with an interest in the ways that images, gestures and language are circulated and transformed online and the impacts of technology on the intimate spheres of daily life.

Interview with Artist Johanna Strobel

Weaving together disparate references spanning across histories and geographies, German interdisciplinary artist Johanna Strobel explores the entanglement between philosophy, semiotics, and actuality.

Interview with Artist Padma Rajendran

Padma Rajendran’s works on fabric experiment with the clash and combination of patterning and storytelling. She received her MFA from Rhode Island School of Design and teaches drawing at Vassar College.

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