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My Mother's Face

Claire Scott

my mother leaning in listening / her usual face her yesterday’s face / out cold on the couch


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Three Queen Poems

Taisia Kitaiskaia

QUEEN AT A PARTY   Does the green dress sheath Herself, brain included? Married others shift limb to limb, parakeets on a wire.   Madrigal, bloodrigal,…

A Missing Goldfish

Yoshihiro Okumura

Today, however, all I could think of was the nose of Gogol. The image of a human-sized nose banging on my door.

Wheels and Bushings

Maureen Langloss

It was six o'clock in the morning when I started collecting clocks, and now it's 9:37. 10:37. I mean it's 10:00cm. These clocks are all wrong. Time is spilling out of them and getting everything. . . getting everything. . . that word when the clothes are on the floor and crumbs are in your bed and you've spilled wine and yelled at George.

It's Fashion Week

Nathan Hill

And the hot thing for spring is orgasm. Everybody’s coming like crazy. The photographers, designers, celebrity guests. People are falling over!

From the Archives

Where You Are: An Interview

ZZ Packer

James Baldwin once said that he wasn't able to really write about America until he left America. And I have this feeling that if you’re in a place...

Can I Have a Hug First?

Mary Paula Hunter

As a witness should I run to her? Make sure she's not suffering a stroke or an aneurysm? I pictured a headline demanding the whereabouts of a witness who'd left the scene of a potential homicide.

2 Poems

Paúl Puma, transl. by Jonathan Simkins

You return, at last. / At the edge no longer./ At the margin’s curve no longer. / Circular no longer. / In the embers of unfading foam. / The sputum of inscrutable lava.

the bed was a blues lyric,

Patricia Smith

the bed was every damned thing a man says / before he screeches gimme my gun...

From the Blog

A Microinterview with Dorianne Laux

I think of poetry as musical language, close to every day speech but of a higher order, with a system of notation.

Experiments with White Heat

That exalted moment when, out of nowhere, you are obliterated—completely, blissfully destroyed—by a voluptuous euphoria. A lightning flash of inspiration.…