BLUE MASSACHUSETTS
by EILEEN MYLES

“I’m a little
embarrassed.
& I don’t
want to see how
many people
like that thought”

TWO POEMS
by PRECIOUS OKOYOMON

It becomes real to you
The sinking of your  body over the rain

GOOD HOPE RD
by JANEA KELLY

“I love Summer. Her. She.
Not my real mom. My first
fingerfuck, my favorite crush”

THE GIRL
by BLAIR HURLEY

The dead girl, who is a ghost now because of that unfinished business, that nursing school, that boyfriend, sighs a tiny sigh, rests her chin in her substanceless hand. The dead girl has a lot ahead of her, so much to see.

PONY
by SAVANNAH OLIKER

“We never fucked
after we stopped being in love.
This was one of our many charms”

THE NIGHT OF THE GODDESS
by CHITRALEKHA BASU

I had been here before – in this ‘Mecca’ of Calcutta’s street food as Shankar, my chaperon from the Embassy, puts it. Nice man, Shankar. Seems to have an intuitive sense of when he’s needed and for how long, knows exactly where he belongs in the scheme of things.”


TWO POEMS
by REBECCA SALAZAR

“Let us pray for my grandmother’s face
when I waddle downstairs, my crotch
swaddled in wads of toilet paper to ask mama
where the tampons are”

INTERVIEW | DORETTA LAU
by STEPHANIE CHOU

“For me, I tell the story I want to tell, using language that comes from the core of who I am, but I’m still mindful of providing a structure that is readily understandable for a reader educated in a western context.”

CAPITAL DISCOURSES
by RIDWAN TIJANI

On Tuesdays, he liked to pass out pamphlets; What Marxism is all about. But therein lied the problem, he thought, the people on the streets thought he was from a church, so whenever he attempted to give a person the pamphlet, they would say, “I already have a church.” 

REAL GOOD
by SARAH JEAN ALEXANDER

“Missing someone real good feels like beckoning a dog to come on over for a pet She eyeballs your hand but doesn’t even turn her head”

GUTTING A PALE FISH
by CHRIS AMES

A bite on the line. He goes reeling. Happens faster the second time. The motion is so fluid, it appears as the fish is helping to swim through its own disassembly.”

MODERN PARABLES #1: THEFT
by EDIE MEIDAV

“Back then he’d thought you could flame hot strokes across a canvas and others’ understanding of the noumenal world would shift merely because he had lived.”


DRAFTS
by RACHELLE TOARMINO

“I am a gesture
I belong mostly to movement”

FLAT ASS SATURDAY NIGHT
by KRISTYN DUNNION

Reggie Toombs’ velvet-chainsaw rumble, the voice of Detroit. Ray can’t help picture a bear of a man, grizzled chops, wide heft to his stooped shoulders, the back of his padded swivel chair worn from sitting, night after night, just so.

VISAGE
by MATT ERICKSON

A few months ago, I read an article in the Times about a just-solved case opened in 1995, an anonymous car crash victim, the opposite of a missing person: found body, no identity.”