The Blue Notebook (no. 12) Source text from The Blue Notebook by Daniil Kharms, translated by Matvei Yankelevich. Henry Goldkamp Daniil Kharms Sunday, January 15, 2023 Video Essay Issue 163 Web Share Tweet ...
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Contributor Jeff Deutsch is the director of Chicago’s Seminary Co-op Bookstores, which in 2019 he helped incorporate as the first not-for-profit bookstore whose mission is bookselling. He is the author of In Praise of Good Bookstores. Contributions Issue ...
Summer/Fall 2023
Issue 164 Summer/Fall 2023 Saturday, July 15, 2023 The Seafarer About this Issue: MASTHEAD Managing Editor: Joshua Bohnsack Assistant Managing Editor: Kayla Kumari Upadhyaya Faculty Advisor: Susan Harris Director of Planning: Reginald Gibbons Social Medi ...
Self-Portrait as a Laboratory Dog high holy enzyme rile my saliva nameless stimulus splinter my sleep merciful researchers pearl out my urges for gossip for gristle. already in your presence I feel myself changed I froth at the bell I ...
Rat in the trash flaccid thrasher ribbons of grease in the eaves gifts of tinsel to lick all evening shoes click a carnal gleaming at the outdoor market everyone leaves a crust no matter how lovely rat will outlast us watchful it follows the liples ...
Ode to the Piñata You’re always there for me, dear piñata. Every year you greet me when I need you most. When I’m one year closer to death. You remind me to take a second and enjoy dulces. You have a deep philosophy: swing; swing harder; eat candy. What u ...
Wile E. Coyote Wrote This Sonnet On His Way Down Above, the stars are swelling and swelling as they do. Me—I’m still just a sad song humming its way up a throat. Paint a tunnel on the maroonest canyon wall, run into it, and then try to imagine the same ac ...
Contributor Juan Carlos Mestre is a Spanish poet, essayist, and visual artist. He is the author of many prize-winning collections of poetry, including Antífona del otoño en el Valle del Bierzo (Premio Adonáis, 1985), La casa roja (Premio Nacional de Poesí ...
Durak Our father taught us his favorite card game from his Nazi labor camp. Durak (You Fool!)— the final game played on poker night. He dealt five cards to himself, to my brother and me. He said the game played best with six or more guys to stretch out th ...
Gifts My father fixed my broken chair with a single shot of vodka, built a bicycle from cigarette butts, a couch from shattered bricks. He sewed teddy bears from snow, cobbled shoes from chicken soup, tailored dust into sweaters, trained my socks to sing ...