The Event Still to Come by David Peak
Transposition: A series of cavernous, empty spaces at the end of a winding road. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Walls covered with portraiture: families, children, hands and feet. Wood paneling. Molded ceilings. Various arrangements of tarnished silver. Significant water damage. Black mold. A staircase that leads nowhere... Read More
Two Poems by Haley Hemenway Sledge
Tie This up and take This everywhere. The backs of This’ knees all sicked from This’ scratching. This can bellow a balloon of semen. Ask your mother to dinner and This will only pass time. This is too much for a mediated form. This is too golden for a train car. This is too loud... Read More
Southern Atoll: a collage of words from the thoughts of others by Helmut Dosantos
Short is life, and agitated and restless, as the waves now crashing at our feet and whose dying call is our last requiem. These words aren’t mine. I have salvaged all as I recall them. It must be because every life dies and every death lives. Again... Read More
Three Poems by Virginia McLure
On a shelf / on a nail / on top of the door frame / your stares make a triangle / of forward-thrusting gaze. / I dagger down their lines / & slowly, carefully, leg / outside. I check myself: Alive. So it feels right to palm you down / & line your painted faces... Read More
novae by Daniele Bellomi, trans.from Italian by Anton Ivanov
could have stayed away from the observation point, never again to say / a word about the shadowed part with no one, evaluating distances with eyes / used to a hypothetical explosion, to precede like one proceeds amongst variables / and cautions, proximity to collapse, tracing again the once combusted edge / of anything seen... Read More
Variations In Which She Invents Herself by George Szirtes
What she told herself was true, she thought, and wondered what else she could tell herself. / I have invented fictions of myself that seem truer than what I think I know, she thought. / The fiction of self as invention is the only credible fiction... Read More
Fragments from Gnome by Robert Lunday
When you drive, the landscapes slide sharply through the sides of your face. They fill your cheeks, your temples, they build behind the eyes and ears. Soon they’re ripped by the wind or a gawker’s stare from the back of your head, and you’re again in the landscape... Read More
The Thirties 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
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
XIV 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