Latest Writing
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INTERVIEW WITH Christian Kiefer
Christian Kiefer is the director of the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at Ashland University and is the author of The Infinite Tides (Bloomsbury), The Animals (W.W. Norton), One Day Soon Time Will Have No Place Left to Hide (Nouvella Books), and Phantoms (Liveright/W.W. Norton). Photo by Christophe Chammartin. FWR: Let’s start with your pieces for Literary Hub, where…
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INTERVIEW WITH Rachel Eliza Griffiths
Rachel Eliza Griffiths is a multimedia artist, poet, and writer. Griffiths is the author of Miracle Arrhythmia (Willow Books 2010), The Requited Distance (The Sheep Meadow Press 2011), Mule & Pear (New Issues Poetry & Prose 2011), which was selected for the 2012 Inaugural Poetry Award by the Black Caucus of the American Library Association, and…
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INTERVIEW WITH Kelly Grace Thomas
FWR: To start, I want to give you an image of my reading of Boat Burned. I was getting a pedicure and reading. I think part of what had me so enraptured in your writing in that moment was that I was already in a place where I was thinking about my body, and the…
POETRY
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TWO POEMS by Sophia Terazawa
Residual These syllables strike our lower register [branching: fog]. Who whispers like a friend, “Bêche-de-mer,” I wring out towels and pillow cases. Sunday afternoon. Check on your sister, you sign. She won’t speak anymore. Glass trees. Soapstone box. You package her father’s old shirt there in Queens [arms crossed…
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TWO POEMS by Kuhu Joshi
Saraswati on a Sunday morning All this living alone. This mug With my initials on it, scrubbed And put to dry On the kitchen slab. It waits for me. Looks happiest when filled up. I’m a bit sick of Maria – my Areca palm There by the bookshelf. She Dances. When it gets like this I Don’t know what to do with myself. Fridge then…
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SELF-PORTRAIT AS THE CORNFIELDS by Carolina Hotchandani
I am a citizen of a former British colony that rebelled from England with a great tea party, declaring itself its motherland one day. America. Was it orphaned? Did it kill its own mother? Poor England. Where are you from? the other Americans ask me. My mother is Brazilian; my father is Indian. I was…
FICTION
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PIVOT by Wendy J Fox
In the office, coworkers Sabine and Michael sat quietly at their cubicles. In the office, there was flux. For example, sometimes the temperature waffled between tropical and arctic…
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THE OCEAN INDOORS by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam
Remember that time the ocean came in through my bedroom window? Remember that time I woke up choking on sea salt spray, my bed a boat on the sea that had replaced the stained gray carpet?
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THE HOTEL by John Poch
He got out of his truck and composed himself. His new white shirt stuck to his lower back where he’d been sweating against the vinyl seat. She was in the hotel up there, and she might be looking down.
TRANSLATION
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THREE POEMS by Bronka Nowicka trans. Katarzyna Szuster (from POLISH)
INCALCULABILITY Things and people often disappear at night, so in the morning you account for yourself with the help of your hand. See if you have incurred losses of yourself. There are ten toes on your feet, five in each flock. None should be missing from the herd. Your eyes are in your head, tucked…
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AND WHAT HAPPENS IF I WANT TO NAME EVERYTHING?, ASKS THE FEMALE DISCIPLE by Mayra Santos-Febres trans. Seth Michelson (from SPANISH)
what happens if i want to speak childrensay belovedembrace this solitude? the signs will kill you, warn far-sighted voices,the parallel paths of the law will kill you many women have tried and failedtheir names are the names of names they come from everywhereare written in every tonguesing from every tribe of the species the voices…
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from RED MELANCHOLIA by Helena Boberg trans. Johannes Göransson (from SWEDISH)
They have grabbed me opened up cut loose reshaped my nature spared a cypher from being extinguished begun a protracted illness The room tightened brought my life sphere one step closer to my body underneath was a…
From the Archives
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