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
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* Voltage-gated pathways are depolarizedand pore-forming membrane proteinsallow calcium influx from adjacent solutions. (Cell insides become saturated) Excitation is mossy fiber runningsouthbound head-stems and paired shootsthrough once-relaxed tissue. * You’ve established rules,preventative
Brenda K. Marshall’s first novel, Mavis, was published in 1996 (Fawcett-Columbine), and
What separates us from our lives / is a see-through thing. /
Survival Kills You no longer maintain loyalty to land or certificates of existence. “Farrah” translates to “happiness”. With a slick tremor to the lower back, radio waves ( c r a s
Kami Enzie (he/him) is a Vienna-born, New Orleans-raised writer. Work appears in Chicago Review, The Glacier, Image, Oversound, The Poetry Review, and swamp pink. He is an alumnus of Tin House Winter
Harrison Candelaria Fletcher is the author of Descanso for My Father (2012), Presentimiento (2016), and Finding Querencia: Essays from In Between (2022). His work has appeared widely in such venues as New
Our breath is louder on the silence of snowfall,but I can’t help missing the rain. Lately, I’ve curledinto the shape of his body until I’m formless, our sheetsclean but still hinting at
Wind Peace came at once. A cloud arrow that pierced my corpse alive. I’d been dead to all the birds and violets. It was a severance, the violent calm that ruptured a legacy
1.if you look closely—and you will—you’ll see not parts, but the suggestion of parts. the only limit isthe imagination, which naturally, turns to sex. did you ever play the original sims? did
The silence to which each sound returns, arises is always pooling. And within that pool, another silence upwells, creating caverns and currents, rooms and halls and roads— What does the mind do
Thursday – 8:15 A.M. ⠀ When the morning arrives, it comes with light sun showers and a dull pain that starts in the pit of your stomach and seems to wrap its
trying to keep it quiet I’m cramming in egg shells and potato peels emptying the fridge rolling out line after line of flag-print stamps ⠀ oh please keep it from shrieking at
feet slap dark moss soft webbed platypus plap plap plap bump on my eardrum tap tap tap cave-wall lit like a microphone my amoeba legs flow in and out lightly on
