Your Famous Sister Walking Through a Plate-Glass Door at the Gehry Museum If It Existed by Forrest Roth
I distrust people, everyone in this city, those who speak in the anecdotal. Yes I know you did something. We all did. And we all know each other. We know your famous sister, and you and her were, like, aberrant: seeming to cause willful self-injury and thus a seething insult... Read More
Vestiges_00: Ex-Stasis Cover & Contributors Preview
Vestiges_00: Ex-Stasis will feature work from Andrei Platonov, Róbert Gál, Louise Black, James Brubaker, Ryan Chang, Tristan Foster, Evelyn Hampton, Sam Kriss, Robert Lunday, Nicola Masciandaro, Rebecca Norton, Alina Popa, Forrest Roth, George Szirtes, Chaulky White +more... Read More
One Poem by George Szirtes
It was the Thirties once again. Shop doors / opened on hunger and long queues for soup, / the poor, clothed by the same half-empty stores, / stood round in doorways in a ragged group; / the unemployed were drunk in railway stations, / rumours of war played on a constant loop... Read More
Saints by Laura Ellen Joyce
The first time you watch this reel, do it with a blindfold. Slowly lift the silk from your eyes and let the sharpness come into focus. Unless you want an iron shock—in that case pin open your eyes and let it flood you. There are one hundred precious metals in this reel. They have been... Read More
Hot Mess: Breaking the Skin by Rebecca Norton
When observing a figure depicted in a painting, we usually take a few moments to notice how the skin is painted. This informs us of the genre of the painting, the artist’s style, the ideas about the figure, etc... Read More
Two Poems by Courtney Marie
the future lovers / embrace odd shapes / to approach the imminent- / unnaturally crawling or rolling / to fit through or under. / in fear we fake ourselves- / borrowed gestures / learning new words /
crafting habits and painting / the whole tie dye scene / with dirty fingers / using oil to... Read More
Hellhole by Tristan Foster
On a night when the moon is low and yellow as egg yolk, I watch a plane, silhouetted but for a few blinking lights, flying quiet as a bat over the roof of my home. Inside, upstairs, I use a pencil and an old city map that’s dog-eared at the corners to plot the possible... Read More
Three Fragments from Songs About Women by James Brubaker
Look to the Lowlands and the women there. Banished, all of them, to this neighborhood, this catastrophe of design, this frozen lake of whispers and half-finished thoughts, hidden from view. As you arrive in the Lowlands, don’t ask when or why the place was built. Don’t ask why the houses share no unifying architectural principle... Read More
XIV from Lassoer by Camilo Roldán
heaven is not so far / distant from earth, / nor snow so far different / in color from coal; / fan of the past / open with a piss / on hot / coal white in soft / thighs / always if admonished / were the dart / requisite / for turn /... Read More
I Am Not Supposed to Be Here: Birth and Mystical Detection by Nicola Masciandaro
True detection lies in being extra circumspect about birth, life’s originary and seemingly unerasable crime. “If attachment is an evil,” says Cioran, “we must look for its cause in the scandal of birth... Read More