Fragments from Moon Ring by Annie Le Brun, trans. from French by Alicen Weida
Children of this century, avert your gaze. Lips are no longer on every word. Words climb pell-mell onto the backs of things. And things, wandering in the desert of their own erosion, seek to bribe our bones, the uncertain keepers of a fortified mirage... Read More
Three Poems by Kirsten Ihns
sneezer in the foi yay, permitted as i am to name my hour / the pummeling quality that uniquely static can, i take it on / i produce a horrible noise / i intensify / the horrible noise i track across the surface of text every time / mud / no i track the slow... Read More
Desert Vivant by Isabel Sobral Campos
no point thinking from carcass to cemetery / no point thinking, or if thinking, the thought / licks the pebble or desert domed cloud / it weighs then beats brow / now that / ancestors sleep with sharks / the herring haunts these waterless place / a sculled face... Read More
Six Prose Poems by Alistair McCartney
When I die, my memory—or do I mean your memory of me?—will dissolve like the Platonic (abstract) form of a cube of sugar in a cup of tea, like the post-abstract expressionist (Neoplatonic) form of the corpse of a boy in a hot pink ceramic tub of hydrochloric acid, correction: sodium hydroxide... Read More
Five Poems by Anna Gurton-Wachter
I get to re-experience / a fly bouncing / off the walls / equivalency began / each time I swell / a cloud or angel / evoked off-hand / I don’t think I would / separate myself / accept love sad art / unanswered / how it is... Read More
Episodes from OMAR by Sam Truitt
0. / Prison / — / the pervasiveness of penology / — / to be inside a thing and unable/unwilling to leave / — / some involuntary but most to varying degrees riding it / — / or climbing its walls / — / the glass mountain and relation to the practice of the open... Read More
Two Poems by Sawako Nakayasu
Girl F’s the getting, and tiredness is the reference, and the other is girled by their initials. There’s the decisive finding, that is, the name-outer, the girl-eacher, the come what may, but there are also some extremely marching shes, which makes Girl J say very well why there was so much Hi, name, fuck, of... Read More
Two Poems by Krystal Languell
I shook out my reading material / asked if it was okay to be seated / then sat comfortably / maybe one more month and / her baby could have lived / she got a tattoo to remember / carved a thin tulip for a skull... Read More
German Letters, 1935 by Dong Li
mild winter no snow it is a sunny day Dölzschen alive the cemetery full of locals flowers laid words left in fogged breath will return after a short walk taken slowly they are hesitant to leave the house Nichelschen the tomcat died last night... Read More
Saint-Ouen | Stalingrad by Marie Silkeberg, trans. from Swedish by Kelsi Vanada
Rashomon. The Demon’s Gate you say. / I understood that it had opened. / Only a few more seconds. And it would be opened wide. / Time would stratify. / It snowed. The first snow fell... Read More