Online Exclusives

12.12.01
Three Poems
I want to go there, I said, pressing my middle finger, bent with determination, in the middle of a blank space marked unbekantes land on the map (Dresden, 1845). [...]
10.06.01
Woman Jumping
She’s out on the ledge, Roxana, and what’s on her mind is whether she should follow through on what she’s been wanting to follow through on for all these past months. [...]
09.27.01
The Trial
by Isaac Babel
translated by Peter Constantine
Madame Blanchard, a sixty-one year old woman, met Ivan Nedachin, a former lieutenant colonel, in a café on the Boulevard des Italiens. They fell in love. [...]
09.07.01
Two Stories
by Natasza Goerke
translated by W. Martin
For years I’ve whiled away the tedium of Sunday afternoons in the Natural History Museum in London. My eldest sister, Eileen, always thought I must be a masochist. And who knows, perhaps she was right. [...]
08.17.01
Two Poems
I’m the life-sized rag doll strapped to my master’s shoes dancing salsa in subway. [...]
08.10.01
Notes on the Enclosure of Beams
A future character of ownership maps it.
I am squaring iron dunes
assuming each side of the solar aquarium. [...]
07.10.01
On Monsters That Have Come Forth from Women’s Wombs
It is true that men, upon occasion, generate wild beasts within their bodies.  [...]
05.16.01
Peneplain
Opal came by yesterday to ask Where they come from? and say J.’s got you mower fixed. The rain came the day before and washed us all out. [...]
04.17.01
Marso
Almost all are women, many in wheelchairs, all want more than anything else to leave. Forgetful of time, their possessions, the day of the week, the seasons, even their families [...]
04.07.01
Pithiviers
That was a summer of unusual drought in the Loiret, of hot wind and heat and heavy Bordeaux, the blood-red wine the de C’s kept in the small dark cellar opening off the caretaker’s cottage. [...]
01.07.01
Stance Horizontal and Turning
Stills from six different installations, spanning nearly ten years.
by Gary Hill
introduction by George Quasha, Charles Stein
Searchlight was begun in 1986 and is the precursor to Beacon (Two Versions of the Imaginary), 1990. A three-inch black-and-white monitor is mounted inside an eighteen-inch horizontal aluminum tube that faces a wall in a completely darkened room.  [...]

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In Print

Vol. 76
Fortieth Anniversary Issue
Spring 2021
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

October 20, 2021
Launch

codes, we stripped species,
            our insecure
hands of gloves
to crack the test           to our capitalizable
future. Pray
            for the multiverse I’m working on
at midnight.
October 13, 2021
Forgive us. We were waiting
here, in the thickening ice. We worked a long time. Now
we try to give what we found, a little basket
hiding behind each back, full of the young shoots.
They are so green. Mercifully green. We say so. Yes,
they are alive, we say. We, too. We are still sick.
October 6, 2021
Friday night, and you have done the unthinkable. You’ve taken your father’s Jackal Ghost bowling ball from its locked hard-shell case under your mother’s bed—the ball that looks like a purple and black version of the earth, a jackal’s head rising from the swirls—and gone to meet Teddy and Zeke and Evan and Marya, most importantly Marya, for a night of bowling, the game your dead father was obsessed with: the game that, according to your mother, ruins people.
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