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What I Wouldn't Give

Laura Dzubay

In Delaware Water Gap, I met a stranger I’d been looking for since Georgia. We both stayed the night in town, at a donation-based hostel in the basement of a church.


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction

MMMBop was released

Ayelet Amittay

His beard uncombed / as starlight. His crime couldn’t sing / without a tongue

The Years Before Y2K

Raquel Gutiérrez

The Stonewood mall in the late-1980s had been a site of several aspirational misfires to fit in, be seen.

Pretty Kitty

Dayna Cobarrubias

All she wanted was to look like all the other brown girls. They were everywhere, versions of the girl she’d prayed to look like in high school. Girls whose bodies and faces she craved. Girls she wished she could be. Girls her mom hated that she resembled.

Two poems from Cosmic Bottom

Lucas de Lima

i open my hands & eat the bird inside the ball of light, the song of the bird of the devil burns a hole in my body & out of it a streak of feathers

Celebration

tae min suh

On the eve of Phoenix’ 23rd birthday, we sing, all the / furniture pushed up against the balloon-adorned walls of / their living room, the New York kind, compact, quaint a / broker might say when he is trying to sell this fantasy.

What I Wouldn't Give

Laura Dzubay

In Delaware Water Gap, I met a stranger I’d been looking for since Georgia. We both stayed the night in town, at a donation-based hostel in the basement of a church.

Queer Paranoia at the Dua Lipa Concert

Kurt David

I vaguely knew about Dua Lipa before I saw her in concert: pop star, Albanian, that hit single with Da Baby. Mostly I’d come to associate her with my friend Isaiah.

Out of Time

Nancy Cook

He left the door unlocked, in case I arrived before he got back from teaching. I thought I’d timed the drive from Durham to ensure an appearance well after school let out, but he didn’t answer when I knocked and it was quiet and dim in the apartment.

Turn Around

Celeste Amidon

She worked in a supermarket before Showing women the way to the leeks, soaking the mop, affixing stickers to the cheeks of apples

filth deposition, with lines from Caroline Polachek

Fargo Nissim Tbakhi

Online Exclusive Poetry from Fargo Nissim Tbakhi

Pop Song

Chen Chen

Love is an improbable / shaking / of hips / on a dancefloor called Nevertheless,

harry styles live on tour, september 20th 2017, 8pm the greek theater, los angeles california

alexis briscuso

a man gives just enough / to thunderous applause / and we made a statue/ of it.

Left & Right

Monica Kim

At the end of our fourth date, Amy and I have our first kiss. SEVENTEEN’s “Left / & Right” autoplays on YouTube in the background.

Tender Raging Love: A Requested Playlist

Kathy Nguyen

Singing always ended with a death in this house.

recipe for lifelong homosexuality

Chen Chen

beneath the night’s embroidery, / hold me.

Dreaming in Kpop Y/N

Monica Kim

I dream that Hoseok is my bus driver. We hightail a heist at the British Museum, returning stolen art to their rightful owners.

Leandra Michaels 1

Brandon Young

You can believe it or not, all of this / heartbreaking / drag


From the Archives

Unkempt Graveyard Near the Shore

Jari Chevalier

Trespassing on ground of former love. Tussocks / whisper here of nests and the vanquished. Swans hiss and fish / nearby, undoing the slipknots of their throats...

Way of the Gun

Tana Wojczuk

In silence, the women gather. Girls draw together, jostling to get in front of the camera, but once they are there they don’t know how to behave. One chews her hair, the other gesticulates, losing her cool out the ends of her fingers, she fans them like a child searching blind-mole for a lost toy. A woman’s face has collapsed. A mother searching for a lost child. As she speaks of him she strokes her hand against her own cheek.

from Catacombs

Luciana Jazmín Coronado, transl. by Allison A. deFreese

My mother warns me / that Grandmother has awakened / from death, / taken a shower / and put on a dress / over her naked body

At Forty I Dream of Home

Cintia Santana

Unbuilt, or charred to this, the timbers of my house, its ribs. Alone, but standing, it whistles / wind into the bluestem grass.