Sarah Wetzel

Sarah Wetzel

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

Elena Negrón

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 a book that got turned into a movie that was way more popular than the book. And a homeless guy spit on me.

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.

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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 »

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.

Books in Brief

Four recent volumes of poetry, prose, and letters, reviewed by our editors.

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.

Patricia Zylius

I can paint phrases that capture my man / veiled and leaning over a hive, ungloved hands / lifting frames aswarm with bees, finding the

Chard DeNiord

There was a space at the table / for a child who’s face I’d already seen. / Who had arrived with a smile in the

Jayant Kashyap

sometimes a bottle // holds me like a tentpole / sometimes // it’s the other way round; and we bottle- /
neck / we flagship each-other.

John Oliver Hodges

He is not our first dead tourist. We have had copter incidents, people cutting legs on ice, avalanche victims. One lady fell down a mine

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.

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

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 Scott Kiernan

B O D Y interviews Scott Kiernan, a New York-based artist whose video, photo and installation works interact in ways that address their own materiality and means of distribution.

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.

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