Highlighting recently released and forthcoming works by marginalized creators GOLDEN SHRAPNEL by Almir Imširević (translated by Ellen Elias-Bursać) At a remove from Sarajevo, on a writer’s residency in France, a playwright finds himself in the thrall of echoes from the past — in a labyrinth of siege-time references. This is not an ordinary memoir, but […]
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Barely South Review is currently accepting original, previously unpublished pieces of art (including graphics, multimedia works, paintings, photos, sculpture, and videos). Deadline: 6/26 Saraba Magazine is currently accepting prose of up to 5000 words, up to 3 poems, and visual art submissions from African writers that are previously unpublished and submitted without identifying items such […]
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i am tired of writing about youinstead of writing back. but my fear andhope fight like werewolves, each howling to the same moon, afraid to brave thewoods alone. for the woods i grew up in were unreliable. they transformed under the afternoonthunderstorms into mud hills, coated withslick leaves until the dead of january. they hummed […]
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I’ve known them all—the scum that cakesthe innards of the leaking soda machine,the sticky residue of a removed name tagon a soft gray sweater, the foul stenchof a dead mutt crushed on the shoulderof Highway 370, the dried mud trappedin the tiny lines and crosses on the bottomof my purple running shoes, the dead wormsthat […]
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Pennsylvania transforms at night, morphing into something that makes your heart lodge into your throat. You are seventeen. You are driving down Route 3, bleeding all over your beautiful leather seats, chewing away at your cuticles. Pennsylvania is something different at night. You miss this place that you’ve never even left yet. You are seventeen […]
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In Beijing, the temple was a karaoke lounge& my bubble tea order was a terror-wrought mantra.That night we almost died in the bike lane, zipping deep chevronsin the rainwater, charged with sewage, I wanted to laugh & laugh.Blood—so improbable. The opposite of feel—leef.All roads after dark festooned, strangely, with leaves.You said I’m toasting myself! For […]
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I fell out, and I was born. That’s it. There’s nothing else to it. But birth did not mark my beginning: I began the day a classmate deemed me worthy to behold the knowledge of the ‘Superman S’. I began gap-toothed. I began in a farmer’s market sample bucket, and I hope to meet my […]
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I feel like I could starve. My hunger has the velocity in which I could swallow every star, which is to say I could swallow each grain of sand, but I hate the taste of sand. As a child, I chewed everything: telephone cords, lawn clippings, once held a battery between my teeth. And of […]
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VAGABOND CITY 