The latest piece in our DEBUT section, which showcases the first literary work published by a writer, beyond a campus-only magazine
“Sometimes I feel like a beetle. / Hanging on to a blade of grass / for dear life while what others describe / as a gentle breeze knocks the wind out of me.”
(poetry)
It’s theirs as much as mine, / this house, their great black wings / sweeping past windows as the day unfolds
(poetry)
After double shifts / waiting tables at the country club, / she soaks herself pruny, / floats on the water until the streetlights hum.
(poetry)
The historical cloth covers two forms / beating like the angels’ hard bodies in the midst of changing time.
(poetry)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“I tried twitching my nose, but nothing happened.”
Entangled one with another they watch us. / The good died too soon.
(translations)
O, old ocean! the river has mixed with your waters / where I so often bathed
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“Maybe the remnant tells the whole / story”
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“My teachers told me // I should practice, but they never said why.”
Michelangelo said, / “I saw the angel in the marble / And carved until I set him free.”
(poetry)
Revolution / is the party we throw / at our unhappiness when we discover it / looks like tyranny
(poetry)
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“I collected dresses many sizes / Larger, dreamed of all the bodies crowded into those // Forms.”
“Looking up / the wave of your gaze arrived / upon my shore.”
He demands I be a man. What is it to be a man? I ask him.
“for just a moment I lived / through what they may have felt”
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.”
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”
Scars are better than photographs / to remember things by.
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.
She only recognizes the girl in her photographs. // The boy I am recognizes her in photographs.
the cup’s round mouth // gives a satisfying quiver / between the teeth
sharp lady heels sinking into the future // drawn fatefully in my tat of moth lace
(poetry)
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