After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
Read MoreAll right, I’ll be the first to admit it: I’m a sucker for super hero flicks. I grew up in the era of Nickelodeon’s short-lived The Secret World of Alex Mack, about
Brenda K. Marshall’s first novel, Mavis, was published in 1996 (Fawcett-Columbine), and
* Voltage-gated pathways are depolarizedand pore-forming membrane proteinsallow calcium influx from adjacent
2026 Memory Contest Winner Braced Against the Current Flies circle my cheeks as we drifton rafts in the leaf mantled pool,eyes squinting or shut against the sunand growling thunderclouds.We are trying to
2026 Memory Contest Runner Up Dil Soz— the one whose heart burns for otherswhen witnessing their pain.Harder than a rockmore fragile than a rose. In the beloved’s absencelove fades and grows— I
2026 Memory Contest Fiction Runner-Up It’s 1992, I’m in the East Village, and my favorite dead ex-boyfriend Mike picks me up in a gay bar that burned down and came back years
2026 Memory Contest Creative Nonfiction Runner-Up I am holding my mother’s hand as we walk towards the Brooklyn Methodist Hospital, past the fish market and the Barnes and Noble where, if I
The sun reflecting off a chrome bumper discarded by the side of the road like the wrapper of a fast food hamburger momentarily blinded Granny El Bee, and in that moment she
Pop Rocks My sister and I are playingoutside. She opens a small packof rock candy. She grins then pours some inmy hand. She whispers,“Close your mouth.Don’t chew.” The sound of rain in
free verse copper wires gnawed bareas thick as a little finger ready for scrapthat’s the best of what’s in my poems and in additionbreathover the coal cathedral of a half-ruined minedaytime moments airy
Our first date is at an Italian restaurant in the Upper East Side with fake brick walls. The waiter sits us down and says, “Welcome to the old country.” The fake walls
Up yonder, the sky yawns openwide in a downpour. I suck greedy on the silken stem of one last God-white honeysuckle blossom & I watch the rain close in. The hot aircrackles
* * * * * * * * * * Each morning before breakfast my grandfather walked to the edge of the yard to raise the flag, to fly its colors near the heavens. My job was to hold the hard pack of
