POETRY
Pan de Fiesta
Pan de Fiesta words by gabriel sanches-ortega “Se dice pan de fiesta,”My father says to me.Pan de fiesta,Bread for the feast. I held the image in my hands,But never knew its taste. In the playground of the schoolThey pull me by the arms.They accuse me of things I haven’t done.They ...
The Death of a Quizmos
The Death of a words and photo by ben murphy Derelict but dancing, He stands somewhere in between A grimace and a grin. What is he thinking? The posters on his window Are rendered inconsequential. Every sale couldn’t Keep the doors open, Couldn’t keep the children smiling. There’s a hole ...
airflow
airflow words by max lees photos by max lees Paused, speechless swallowed by a tea mug gentle whispers rise up: cinnamon, cardamom, ginger Foot- steps fall leaves dance with the absurdity of Wednesday blown out of bounds by the eternal breath of October Soft on the sidewalk sunbeams tiptoe ...
Extension Request
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Dear Professor / I hope you are well / I hope you are splendid / I hope you are in whichever headspace permits you to accept my humble extension request / I hope that your kids are getting good grades / that your oatmeal is ...
Ghost’s town
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Mornings I drive through a lesion in memory from County Road Five until Bedford. The shadow of a history only half forgotten slips between bricks and sidewalk cracks. I could be window shopping for realities both lost in time and still waiting in my rear-view ...
Beast
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Your body is going to be alright, because the Witch in the woods says so. The world is going to end. We all know that. Gonna get stabbed in the heart by the Three of Swords. Gonna get the hell out when the conversation goes ...
The Intersection
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li It’s there, Right around the corner. Darting eyes. Perked ears. Scampering feet. Sweat is wiped from foreheads. The drops of dew Are flicked from wrists And sizzle on the summer’s pavement. Steps, Through beams of sunlight. Don’t step on the crack. The scars of ...
A question for T.S. Eliot
Illustration | Jennifer Fong Li Mr. Eliot, sir, you who taught me about men, and death, and growing old, About cold comings, balding Magi, and trousers rolled, Time has demanded of me to wonder, having lost the innocence of a kid, Time to ask you, ‘Why do dads die, like ...
A Limp Hand Extending from the Body on the Couch
Illustration | Seavey van Walsum I can’t reach the Sediments settling in The lining between my Daydreams and responsibilities, Every gap a yawning canyon, Repetitions of “Tomorrow, I’ll–” And it’s still today in spite of Night and the Glue leaking from my dirty pores, For every unclean, slow dream sticks ...