by Svetlana Sterlin | Mar 31, 2024 | Issue #6, Issues, Poetry
i. my injuries weren’t metaphors & yes i really do still live within a 1km radius of both, still within the chemical glow radiating from the pool where we exchanged spit on accident, obviously by the swirl at the drains, which accepted my vomit when Dad didn’t...
by Svetlana Sterlin | Mar 31, 2024 | Issue #6, Issues, Poetry
a lane rope rackets across concrete. a hook clangs into place. i drive past a school; P.E. class in progress. tunnel vision ball game. your hand first to the wall. your feet splatting across pool deck to claim the one shower with decent water pressure. always racing....
by Svetlana Sterlin | Mar 31, 2024 | Issue #6, Issues, Poetry
Put a raisin cake in the oven, and it’s very small. Then you let it go, and the distance between the raisins is like the distance between the galaxies—it gets larger and larger with time. —Neta Bahcall mix the dry ingredients. make a well in the middle. imagine diving...
