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Conjunctions:29, Tributes
Conjunctions:31, Radical Shadows
Conjunctions:35, American Poetry 
Conjunctions:39, New Wave Fabulists
Conjunctions:50, Fifty Contemporary Writers
Conjunctions:61, A Menagerie
Conjunctions:62, Exile
Conjunctions:63, Speaking Volumes
Conjunctions:64, Natural Causes
Conjunctions:65, Sleights of Hand
Conjunctions:66, Affinity
Conjunctions:67, Other Aliens
Conjunctions:68, Inside Out: Architectures of Experience
Conjunctions:69, Being Bodies

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In Print

Vol. 71
A Cabinet of Curiosity
Fall 2018
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

A Selected Text from Conjunctions:72, Nocturnals
April 18, 2019
The first time I crossed the equator, I stopped for a photo. People usually do. I had come to work in a small clinic in a coffee-farming village in southwestern Uganda, just to the south of the world’s belt. I grew up in the midlatitudes: long summer days and long winter nights, the swing of light and dark like a rocking hammock. I thought of the equator as a human idea—a line on a spinning globe. Its tyranny was a shock.
April 16, 2019
In the first dream, the dog is disguised as a cat.

In the second dream, when I pet him, the dog turns into chocolate.

In the third dream, the dog is a ball of dirty yarn which I scoop up
and lay over my chest to muffle the sound of my rapidly beating heart.
by Can Xue
Translated by Karen Gernant, Chen Zeping
April 2, 2019
Jing Street, where I live, is a long, narrow street with many coffee shops and teahouses. Sitting in my third-floor study, I can see inside the “Island” coffee shop across the street. This small shop does a good business; it’s almost always packed. I frequent this shop, too. I secretly call Hoh Dao, its owner, “Mr. Perfect.”
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2018 American Book Award–winning author Valeria Luiselli reads from her work
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
6:00 pm – 7:00 pm
Campus Center, Weis Cinema