Old Maid Ann DeWitt He’s fifty when he starts with the suspected trapeze dancers, fixtures in the night riding a large red tricycle. Don’t yet know about the World War II jumpsuit or the guy in chains in back sucking the salt off all the peanuts. I didn’t put him in the cage. […]
Two Poems By JD Scott Validator [There is going to be a suit you will wear while you read this poem. Please make sure you say your own name aloud at each instance you put on this suit. This it vital. Saying your own name is a prerequisite for feeling validated. Please log into […]
in defense of art By Aimee Herman replace body with round of applause slap deportation of immunized bones draw map of grade nine depression sloppy kiss cartographer for compass brand benefactors & advertisements into forearms non–narrate the spaces of gender utilize humor when categorizing medicinal habits call framework pre–Reconstruction index teeth as artifacts […]
Two Poems By Mya Green Changeling Time’s mouth is wide as infinities, womb flexed, daughterson pulled from darkest ink ankles, wrists, roped, wildest wolf couldn’t cut free—echo the underbelly you palpated, broodmother coccyx, in release. Urchin heart, a tin-cage hum-hum in false -etto. This rage bereft of face, demands a name. Fault of […]
Featured Artist: niv Acosta niv Acosta in “i shot denzel” at New York Live Arts, January 2014. Photo by Ian Douglas
Mistaken for the Subject of an Obituary By Terese Coe Perhaps he was too still, too pale, too dull. The remnant of a capitalistic cull. Doppelgänger unfit for profit, samizdat, or barter. Non-starter. Visual Art: Wendy Videlock, The Dead. Photograph
Seams By Migueltzinta Cah Mai Solís Pino Gender, the garment, has been tailored. But does it know the body like spandex? Is it a pair of jeans—machined, carved in that way, its fibers dilating and contracting as demanded? Or possibly the gender garment is a knit tube sock—a strange color, loose in places? […]
thread By Victoria Matsui the person who threads my eyebrows tells me “my husband loves long hair, so i cut mine short.” we can’t stop laughing, she’s already bent over, i’m already lying down: two asian american women. for years, she has taken care of me, her labor physical and emotional. capitalism tries […]
Fruits 8th Grade, Freshly Emigrated from México By Paco Márquez sandias are watermelons melones are melons limones are limes limas are lemons crucifixion of blood fruits teenager baffled by a new language resting on gestures speaking in tongues throat driven down hallways wood shield as smile little body asphyxiating on delicately cut prunes elegant phrases eaten not […]
I Want Some Seafood, Mama By Soleil Ho Mamas always tellin me not to go wanderin outside when its light out, an the sky is flashin with the green, but now that shes big she cant chase me as quick. I dont mind her hollerin, cause I wanna catch an eyeful of them […]
