The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“When I got out of work a giant pizza was on my car, covering my windshield, covering my roof and the glass of the hatchback.”
Author: Another Chicago Magazine
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“my only scar from childhood / is a two-inch stripe on my knee from changing / baby siblings on the floor”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“The lion tells them that he knows a field of green pasture where they can feed to their fullest.”
(poetry)
Scars are better than photographs / to remember things by.
Hurston consistently drew attention to herself in her ethnographies and included the dialogue of her interlocutors, thus eschewing the objective and distant narrator perspective.
(reviews)
There’s joy on Easter, and that joy lasts a long time. And Lent, it’s not about food, it’s about self-sacrifice, humbling yourself before God. You’re saying, You’re the big guy. I’m the small guy.
You tell me to keep my ass out of the road, and to stay the hell away / from the poison ivy and Virginia creeper because my skin reacts to / everything.
It doesn’t matter which language you speak, because language does not influence your way of thinking.
The Friday after Johnny was caught cutting up his Adderall, the AC unit in the teachers’ lounge broke.
(fiction)
When my family was escaping, my great grandmother saw that all of the grain that was collected from them was being thrown in the sea.
She only recognizes the girl in her photographs. // The boy I am recognizes her in photographs.
The older generation of course, they didn’t teach their kids about the horrors of Stalin, because they didn’t want them to have that memory.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
He remains in place next to the stove, watching everyone, observing their flaws.
(fiction)
There was an air alarm, so an ambulance couldn’t get to us and bring this child to the hospital, so we decided to treat him right there.
(Dispatches From Ukraine)
the cup’s round mouth // gives a satisfying quiver / between the teeth
I told my wife I was opposed to leaving Vinnytsia. She said, What happens to you, happens to me.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
just a slight breeze, early in the morning / as you lie asleep and the bulb / you planted pushes through the soil
Now I remember it like a dream, but it was terrible.
(Dispatches from Ukraine)
Grigor, as everyone who met him agrees, had been dropped on his head as a baby. Or else nursed on straight vodka.
(fiction)
The rage rolls out of my gut like a stream of regurgitated frogs, leaving me purged and primed for violence.
(nonfiction)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“The next morning, my training began at Achieve English. In a week, I was teaching. I’d never taught anything.”
(fiction)
Four poems by Alain Mabanckou, translated from the French (Congo-Brazzaville) by Nancy Naomi Carlson
He rejects the idea that Humankind descended from the apes, otherwise why has he, the gorilla, remained at the animal stage?
(poetry)
“wind unravels the light / seeks a face / for the coming storms” (TCTC translations/poetry)
“Because what she wanted was the kind of radiant glamour that her mother possessed, that she lived and exuded: a rarified air of such pure grace that only a handful of humans might possess it.”
(fiction)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“I fell in love with a sweet-lipped / bitter-eyed / girl from Balkh”
(poetry)
“Being a mother is dynamic, and the dynamism of motherhood lends itself to narrative,” Julie Phillips tells interviewer Margaret Juhae Lee.
Apply between January 15 and March 17; the portal closes at 120 applicants.
“mixed chalk with oil / twirling brushes / making clouds talk”
(poetry)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“We washed our hands vigorously after reading all these things. We wiped down our doorknobs and our computer keyboards.”
(fiction)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“The rooms become increasingly more expensive, as one gets closer to the Abyss.”
(fiction)
Another Chicago Magazine 