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Misplaced Karenina
I am perhaps in aweof your feathered-cap majesty,you hypocrite princess,our transplanted Kareninaof a Kremlin motorway.What good or what rot,in...
The letters between us
1.Did you hear the horse thunder and taste the dustin your cabin? The wild hooves kicked up a stormlast night. The hours passed as I reread your...
point nemo
I was told truth is the oakthat holds its leaves each winter. A promisedelayed. As it turns out, I forgetthe rules. I never can know them. This one...
I was told I was a natural pianist
Your words have faded, once perchedbetween the lines, now aloft in eddiesmore erstwhile than eccentric, that distortthe shape of sadness that hangs...
the cha cha slide
the DJ wants us to do the cha cha slide.the DJ wants our claps our stomps our“cha cha real smooth”—the DJasks us to give breath to death andbreathe...
conversation
He tucks the $5 into his sockand looks up at my babysays When my son was a babyI used to sit up all nightto make sure he was breathing WHERE IS HE...
poetry
Dead Little Things
after Fiona Lu...
SEASONING A CAST IRON PAN IN THE YEAR OF THE PIG
Anna Schwartzman...
fish eyes
i This is not the...
Pre-Dawn
Tomorrow knocks againSo patientlyCarrying the pain of her childrenAnd asking us to let her inFor she is a solitary travelerWith only one door to try...
Twenty-First Century Red Riding Hood
The world is my mother and Mother is a witch,she says, a psychological horror protagonistwalled in, exit forbidden sans consent.Lest the teen...
The Stress of Poverty Lowers the Capacity to Learn
I’m climbing out of this secret.At the benefactress soiree,I tuck a ladder inside my ear to remind myselfno personality lives beyond the...
melt
there’s a shade of bluethat pulls in with the cloudsover the glacierwhere the ice pushes back against Apollobegs the navy, canary meshing opento...
Precarity
i.if i’m telling the truth—and i am, this time—every time i look at myself in the mirror i’m looking for someone else.this secret dialect, disguised...
Wormwood
Ieva Dapkevicius "The city's name is the same as one of the Ukrainian namesfor Artemisia vulgaris, mugwort or common wormwood."Etymology of...
fiction
Azra’s Kaangir and the Apricot Mystery
For the children of my village who can’t help but steal apricots from our garden.Go ahead, you little thugs, take them. (I) A little girl pulled at...
Empty Spaces
tr. Lena Hasell When I woke up, the terrace floorboards were green. Some sort of moss. It looked intensely surreal. Thinking I was dreaming, I went...
Mr. Kevin
I reach the top of Hawthorne Avenue at 4:30 pm. Another Thursday. Three minutes to gather myself and go through my breathing exercise—deep nasal...
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