Junior Zete, boastfully: I don’t get hungover. Once I thought I had a hangover, but it was actually a really bad case of blue balls.
Overheard at Ivy
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Letter From The Editor
Dear friends, To walk through a home where you once lived, to see someone to whom you once felt connected, to re-read a book you loved as a child—these are often deeply disappointing experiences. The walls of your old bedroom seem much closer to each other than they once did. Your old friend’s eccentricities,…
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I run into the red
Let’s bundle up this longing to know another / fling curtains over doors / we need more blindness. I gawk at compasses / hallucinate edged circles / stop their revelatory revolutions. A matador’s calculations are never constant / I was formulated for distance. I run into the red, and the cloth is your palm. The…
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Blessed Jamie
“Jamie’s ghost pervaded every corner of our home like cobwebs. All of my flaws were seen through the lens of his perfection, even though we had never actually met.”
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Once Upon a Time, There Was a Mountain – Part 2: The Persimmons
“In 1966, some children came, a line of red dots ascending the trail. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. They called themselves Red Guards. They came up the mountain with crowbars and red armbands, and they smashed the altar and broke the bell and tore the books and cut the persimmon trees.”
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i beg to be built again
“i wonder what it’s like to have a body that doesn’t feel like an afterthought hacked together with whatever spare parts god could find as he ran out of time to get me down to earth.”
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Freud’s Eternal Apartment
A Nass writer wonders how the past and present can coexist in space, applying Freud’s own concept of the Eternal City to Berggasse 19.
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Letter From The Editor
Dear friends, Once, I took a wheel throwing class. I was there for two hours and in all that time I didn’t make anything. I tried my best to mold the clay on the wheel into something that looked nice or, at the very least, would hold up in the kiln, but I walked…