FOUR WAY REVIEW

An Electronic Literary Journal

Category: Issue 5

  • ISSUE 5

    ISSUE 5

    Spring 2014 New work by Gregory Pardlo, Anna Claire Hodge, Alex McElroy, Wesley Rothman, and more

  • ELEGY WITH SHOTGUN by Anna Claire Hodge

    Once you warmed the shower wall with water before pressing me against it. Some nights, the bed was feverish heat. You, a man burning, as the sheets twisted into peaks not from our lovemaking, but nightmares.

  • WRONG ABOUT THAT by Paul Beilstein

    I thought my sadness was a moron’s elbow. Thought I could offer it a salve, or the comfort of a well-worn arm-chair. I thought I could buy a corduroy shirt and wash it the exact right number of times.

  • TWO POEMS by Jane Wong

    BREAKER-OF-TREES My mother cuts the legs off a moving crab. The legs curl in a bucket washed to garbage to sea. When I come home, I tread water on the carpet

  • TWO POEMS by Gregory Pardlo

    25. Ellison, Tony Samuel, et al. Photograph Album. Twenty-two Albumen Prints: Life in the Louis Armstrong Houses with Views of Marcy Ave. Brooklyn, circa 1986. A quaint example of urban pastoralism typical of an age when public policy and planning isolated urban poor like so many shepherds on a hill, these images capture a distant…

  • THE RABBIT by Sarah Huener

    Last night I dreamed you gave me a rabbit. It is time, you said, then extended your hands, the rabbit unfolding slowly from your chest, trembling. The rabbit was white with dark eyes, which I have never seen in waking life, and lighter than rabbits I have held before.

  • BICYCLING HOME AT DUSK I CLOSED MY EYES & LET GO & SAW THE RABBITS by John Paul Davis

    The headwind runs cool fingers through my hair. The opal of rain clouds & the treeline lit up like the eyes of a woman & I am drunk, pedaling faster than I am dying. The divorce

  • TWO POEMS by Simone Muench

    WOLF CENTO I dream you into being—mongering wolf who stands outside the self, makes its way through the transparent world & its motions, its laughter & quarrels, its rows of teeth, its tears, its chiming of clocks.

  • BATHING WITH FRIDA by Wesley Rothman

    With a cigarette between my fingers and flowers bound up in her hair dry morning bathes us in the claw-foot tub. Asphyxiation by drowning. This dawn welcomes us to another side. Every bird lies

  • HOW TO EAT DRAGONFRUIT by Sarah Sweeney

    HOW TO EAT DRAGONFRUIT Let your lover fish pesos from his pocket to buy you one bright pitaya—dragonfruit— pink as your bra strap, with yellow, inedible nipples. You’ll want to devour it then, thirsty as you are, dizzied from the heat

  • THREE POEMS by Leah Silvieus

    HALLA-SAN Jeju Do [1] Stone flung to crater: we gather what we can of the dead, but they remember us in our entirety, filling our pockets with bones and pink rhododendron.

  • TWO POEMS by Gina Vaynshteyn

    NO BODY, NO TOWN Whiskey, my father said, can live in an oak barrel for seventy years. As for me, I shed skin, and every year I am a new girl. I need no time to marinate.