Issue 165
Winter & Spring 2024
-
EDITOR’S NOTE
As a devout student of José Esteban Muñoz’s conceptions of queer cultural and political (re)imagination, I am often thinking about futurity—and queer futurity in particular—in the ways I structure my own life but also in the art I most like to seek out and burrow into. This is my first time writing one of these letters as the managing editor of TriQuarterly, and when, after taking my initial stab at my own, I revisited my predecessor Joshua Bohnsack’s final letter from last issue—which came out in the summer and feels like a lifetime ago—I was struck by his focus on the future. It’s like a seed was planted without me realizing it at the time. "How do we leave something for the future?" Bohnsack asks in that letter, and that question to himself has become a driving force for me as I've stepped into this role, thinking not about how to create something that is timeless but rather moving toward something.
Grief, death, addiction, war, abuse, oppression—on both interpersonal and systemic levels—all these mournful themes linger in the textured pages of this issue. But it would be a mistake to call the issue cynical or macabre. Here is work that acknowledges the violent and heartbreaking realities of the world we live in while also often imagining something else, reaching toward futurity.
There is work throughout the issue in unexpected conversation with each other and across genres. We have a poem about a grieving whale, a short story about a dead one. There are playful approaches to form, such as a poem presented as word problems, a story about reproductive justice presented as a test. Hauntings come in various incorporeal forms, like gentrification haunting an essay that's also about family and lineage. Climate horror seeps into crevices, including by way of toxic fish in a story ultimately about parental loss. There’s absurdity to be found as well, such as in a story about a donut-slinging robot who’s woefully misunderstood. But I don’t want to give too much away; I want you to sit with the work, too.
Wow this one is sad, I found myself thinking upon initial reads and rereads throughout the process of binding together these works for the issue. But I don’t see that as a bad thing. Collective grief is a powerful force, and collective grief is something being acutely experienced in a lot of the communities I'm in: in reaction to an ongoing genocide, an ongoing pandemic, ongoing suffering in many shapes. To say grief is at the center of the past year would be an understatement.
There is no one emotion that connects all of the pieces here in this issue; they are a rich tapestry of human emotions. But I encourage you to not look away from the sad parts in particular. Don't mistake mourning as something that merely looks backward; it's baked into futurity, too.
If I may look back for a moment, though, I’m deeply indebted to the legacies of the recent managing editors who came before me, including Bohnsack as well as Aram Mrjoian, who I also got to work under when I first started as a fiction editor with TriQuarterly. And many thanks to my assistant managing editor Kira Alexis Tucker and all of the genre editors and readers who have a hand in these issues. I love to learn from them all and carry those lessons into the future.
– Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya
Managing Editor, TriQuarterlyMASTHEAD
Managing Editor: Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya
Assistant Managing Editor: Kira Tucker
Faculty Advisor: Natasha Trethewey
Staff Advisor: Colin Pope
Social Media Editor: Emily Mirengoff
Film Editor: Sarah Minor
Fiction Editors: Patrick Bernhard, Jennifer Companik, Emily Mirengoff, Laura Joyce-Hubbard, Mariah Rigg
Nonfiction Editor: Starr Davis
Poetry Editor: Daniel Fliegel
Copy Editor: Lys Ann Weiss
Technology Director: Ken Panko
Technical Advisors: Rodolfo Vieira, Natalie Roman, Vincent LaGrassa, Orzu Tursunova
Staff: Ally Ang, Amanda Dee, Amanda Vitale, Ashton Carlile, Christopher Lombardo, Corey Miller, Dane Hamann, Ellen Hainen, Emma Fuchs, Erika Carey, George Abraham, Gillian Barth, Holly Stovall, Ivis Whitright, Jackson McGrath, Jameka Williams, Jeremy Wilson, Jonathan Jones, Katana Smith, Kathryn O'Day, Liz Howey, Lydia Abedeen, Marcella Mencotti, Marissa Higgins, May Dugas, Megan Sullivan, Michaela Ritz, Michele Popadich, Morgan Eklund, Nimra Chohan, Puck Orabel, Rebecca van Laer, Salwa Halloway, Surya Milner, Susan Lerner, Suzanne Scanlon
Image from According to Sun Ra, None of Us are Real
scar elegy
they held the wound with butterfly
closures four weeks
you had a kaleidoscope flying
up your face the wings
I GET IT, ERNEST BECKER. I TOTALLY GET IT…
~ You not feeling me? Fine. It cost you nothing.
Pay me no mind. —Jay-Z, “Heart of the City”
on monday
we found humour like we must waking up from a bad dream telling ourselves my subconscious can’t be
that fucked i must’ve eaten something rotten or seen something broken where computers were speaking
and silencer guns were silencing through ambient city noises as people walked like they had never before.
Orca Elegy
They called it her tour of grief,
the path of the Orca carrying her dead calf
through the Salish Sea
for seventeen days while we, the human
Discomposed
What do we call
those limpid flowzy flowers
that look like someone took notebook paper
worn soft from pen-pressure—writing and crossing out,
A YARD IS A SPACE, AFTER BERNARD TSCHUMI
1.0 And every rose raised the fist of her manifesto: sick folk need a rose.
1.1 Make it a story problem: how many Black girls will fit in an average front yard?
ARTICHOKE PUREE
If we fuck now we’ll be late
for the ferry that’s waiting
to take us to dinner
later than we are since we lost
THREE BLACK BOYS
Before he was Malcolm X
or our Black Prince—
I would lie down
on my back,
He wrote,
We Belittle the Grass
We belittle the grass when we think it grows
everywhere. It doesn’t. It grows here and here and here.
And we belittle it too when we think
we are nowhere. In some field near some meadow illegible,
Four Word Problems
The Pollination Problem
A girl is designing a fabric garden. She wonders how long it could sustain a
monarch’s shadow. She begins by weighing the cast of an unshed tooth, then
checks her skin for the ghost of a scar.
ALCES ALCES
In the summer of 2020 the Norwegian press reported that Eurasian elk had been sighted on several of the western islands for the first time in a century.
I trace their route back to the islands
along the mainland peninsula
to the road bridge at Tysnes
IN THE PARK WITH BIRD
I’m old enough to understand what my father told me
about making do with what you’ve got except he never
told me that, instead he said get off your ass and do something,
Holding Doors Open
In early spring, 1908, Ellis Island was so congested with ships from Europe & Asia,
The steamer transporting my grandfather, alone & only fourteen, was diverted, rerouted
Donna’s House on Waterman: Texarkana, TX
after Janice Harrington’s “Windshear”
i can’t explain the cardinals i’ve seen of late,
they kindle the trees like small glints of fire
spreading embers amidst the leaves from limb
i’m not here to talk about the rats or roaches
only that we were not a nasty people
but this is what we could afford:
a little place in the shade. a little roof over our heads to pray
and give thanks the water didn’t seep into our beds or kitchens