In poetry, our winner is Andy Chen, for his piece “Longing.” This year’s poetry judge was Porsha Olayiwola. Of the poem, she writes: “‘Longing’ manages to instill within its reader the same essence that the poem itself is after. That is, we read this poem overwhelmed in a sense of longing. The ellipses, ending or…
If we were to try to keep this even, or at least find the midpoint in this argument before anyone gets mean we’d be golden. Let’s say when you said maybe we’re not meant to be with just one person I had responded with – what do you mean by being with someone – what…
Much of the earth has been eradicated before. I’m not going to stay awake and think about that. Sleep is important. Sleep is essential. Tomorrow I’ll be groggy and off-balance and there’s the possibility of falling and breaking a bone. I must not stay awake and think of the chained, the bombed-out, the starving. …
When I look down at my belly, the line there looks back. Straight as a snake measuring its prey. Twice I’ve watched my midline muster stripe and thicken. Become open parenthesis, primed to hold the past tense on display. What kind of magic blooms a scar before the skin ruptures? I continue to find the…
I try not to use a pen that’s too special, writing instead with whatever’s at hand, in this case a pen from George and Ken’s Collision, where I had my hood repaired. After paying the deductible, I wasn’t leaving there without a pen, so I slipped this one into my pocket as…
How did the people realize the steeple needed repair? They prayed below for what stood above. They hired a steeplejack to go and see. Before descending he took a look at the towers of Boston to the north and skyward at contrails of flights. He paused to consider the damage. They prayed against the worst…
You’re kept in capsules on the bathroom counter, a synthetic strain of vitamin A, sealed for potency. Your purpose is to shield the face from signs of aging. Over-the-counter lacks the power existing in medical grade— though too much, over time, can blur the vision, incite a kind of skin-peeling condition or frail the bones….
Before your birth, I marked you as my own, the way I marked your mother before hers. Inscribed on every cell of every bone, the standard of my family never blurs. I coil between the makings of your bed and in the small hours whisper you awake. I poison every sentence in your head and…
Translated from the Spanish by Pablo Medina A man and a woman walk down the street laughing. They make plans. They had a grand time in the hotel where they made love and they laugh, make another date for tomorrow. Life is wonderful. Tomorrow he’ll be laid out in a funeral home one hour…
No products in the cart.