Latest Writing
POETRY
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Three Poems by Craig Morgan Teicher
REGRET Beckoned by the things you’d go back for but can’t, you push on, dragging the past behind like a vestigial tail, out of use but undeniably a living part of you, the thing, really, by which you define yourself: lizardo, can-kicker, backward-glancer tripping over a ripple in the road…
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TWO POEMS by Megan Peak
—In your bed, I lie open to all the ways you have me: husked, sown, ruined. You hover above, right hand burgeoning like a mushroom, white, trembling. Outside the pine seeds slip from their cones, plummet toward the ground. After you strike, I don’t try
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THE SHATTER OF BIRDS by Javier Zamora
after Abuelita Javiercito, you’re leaving me tomorrow when our tortilla-and-milk breaths will whisper te amo. When I’ll pray the sun won’t devour your northbound steps. I’m giving you this conch swallowed with this delta’s waves and the sound of sand absorbing.
FICTION
TRANSLATION
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