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Letter From The Editor
Dear friends, Wildfire haze has made this summer season one for spectating. Two hundred and fifty American years came and went, a milestone received passively, if willingly. In our first issue of the semester, I am happy to report that new contributors refreshingly shift our focus. Something about summertime makes me want to…
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tonsiled & Venetian Ceruse
tonsiled the slug of your body lies dead upon the floor; it squirms for a funeral without a casket. I make a bad Schrödinger joke: my cat died but did it ever exist? should I…
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The Elephant in the Hungarian House
“Uma sensed someone approaching—a short man, old enough to be her grandfather, in an all-white ensemble. “Would you like to dance with me?” he asked with the forward politeness of a smooth talker who knew how to get his way.”
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Tape Recorder Seance
Whether or not I press play, the tape rattles on; some days, I just hear it in my mind— wandering about by the side of the road, looking, out, out, for a nice place to sit down and witness the reservoir’s slow metamorphosis into sludge. Other days? No. Other days, I pull out The tape…
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Goodbye, Golden-Green Leaf!
A Nass writer on leaving—a place, an identity, and Sanna, an endangered Cypriot Maronite language.
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The Freedom I Found In “No One Lasts Forever”
On the one enduring truth—everything changes, everything ends.
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Equinox
Lightning and thunder reassert themselves in static blinding booms. Boom. Storm shorts out the grid, so together we hunt for batteries. In the sudden blackness, I scour and squint until you become a soundwave streak of yellow twitching unlike an insulated wire. Jagged nerve. Warm. Salt crust spills from our cheap, plastic shelves…