Issue 156

Summer & Fall 2019

Image from I have a Secret Crush on Everyone in the World

Fiction C.A. Schaefer Fiction C.A. Schaefer

Nova

When we first came to it, the house was bright. Chrome bars and handles winked under the bathroom lights, and the gray travertine floors were marbled and pitted with luminescent white. I did my best to understand it.

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Poetry Sandra McPherson Poetry Sandra McPherson

Choro for a Father Dancing

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
—Theodore Roethke, “My Papa’s Waltz”

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Poetry Marlin M. Jenkins Poetry Marlin M. Jenkins

from

after Ada Limón


i come from the blood that drips from the thumb

cut on the opening of a beer can

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Poetry Zeina Hashem Beck Poetry Zeina Hashem Beck

Ode to Babel نشيد الانتظار

الطّابق الأرضيّ لمن يؤمن بالحدائق

والطّابق السّادس للتّسوّق

.والطّابق السّابع للّذين يرمون بأنفسهم

On every floor, someone waits.

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Poetry Zeina Hashem Beck Poetry Zeina Hashem Beck

Ode to Disappointment

Today, you are determined

to know about the soul. You decide you’ll go

to an afternoon workshop in a bookstore with windows.

At the coffee shop, your daughters play XO

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Poetry Rage Hezekiah Poetry Rage Hezekiah

Altar

First the smell, then the ribs
fetid at the edges of the dark water.

Rotted, open, I visit each day,
monitor the slow decay, think deer,

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Fiction Jennifer Wortman Fiction Jennifer Wortman

Afterlife

My neighbor watched my girls while I had dinner with the divorce lawyer. He had encouraged me to get out more. Had he and I not been occasionally sleeping together, his encouragement might have been encouraging. Instead, it felt invasive. And hypocritical.

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Fiction Megan Walsh Fiction Megan Walsh

Code Duello

You’re standing around a puddle in the basement of a building in Chelsea. You’re with a big dodo-bird plumber, waiting for water to trickle down from the ceiling over your head.

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Poetry G.C. Waldrep Poetry G.C. Waldrep

The Labyrinth

to René Char

I wake in the morning to the war
which is not your war.
My enemies assemble on the dais
so that I may count them.
Then we share a meal together.

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Poetry Vénus Khoury-Ghata Poetry Vénus Khoury-Ghata

from THE WATER PEOPLE

Translated from the French by Marilyn Hacker

Weep as if the river had entered you
say the water people
and leave your voice behind to listen better when it rains

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Poetry Dan Beachy-Quick Poetry Dan Beachy-Quick

Canto

who planted the seed in the page that the flower

who sowed in the blank furrow the seed

that the flower’s green stem in black ink

[God’s calligraphy???]

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Nonfiction Katherine Lucky Nonfiction Katherine Lucky

Glossolalia

My college roommate spoke in tongues. She would tell me about her talk in the mornings. Lying in bed the night before, she had been saying her prayers. She told me this as I pulled on a sweater, interrupted to ask if she’d seen my keys.

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