Highlighting recently released and forthcoming works by marginalized creators La Movida by Tatiana Luboviski-Acosta: Tatiana Luboviski-Acosta croons in the voice of a lovesick teenaged folklorist time traveler about revolution, housework, anti-colonialism, folk tales, post-punk, anti-fascism, anorexia, and alcoholism. Named both for the Chicana feminist concepts of revolutionary maneuvers and submerged technologies of struggle and the explosive […]
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Baest Journal: “a journal of queer forms & affects … all forms of submissions are welcome, including poetry, essays, reviews, (non)fictions, soundscapes, appendages of new media, monsters that could be called ‘theories,’ archives, past-and-present times, meanderings, hybrid beings, artistries, creations, excretions, hypnagogic ramblings, & whatever else seems fit to email to baestjournal@gmail.com.” No deadline. No fee. […]
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Birds dive for fish, backdropped by pinkhaze. I watch them disregard breaking wavesand sink shamelessly for what they want. Watermelon, two eggs, five dates. I runmy daily list of what I ate. A net negative,I decide. I roll over onto my stomach, eye-level with the sand. Crabs dartbetween holes. So tentative, they scareat the tapping […]
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yesterday, while lugging a box up the stairsto my new apartment, lungs aching in thestink of a hundred cracked and rotting pears soupy with august under their mother, green and sweetness-heavy. it once would’ve conjuredan image of us, older, in a perfect little domesticcountryside life somewhere, called to mind the songs about dizzying and soft love i collected […]
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I. My eyes have eyes and their eyes follow me everywhere. My shadow has a shadow, no matter how small and green. I have never been afraid to slip into the crowd inside a crowd, lose myself in between the teeming rush of people’s coats. To teeter on the edge of a platform to a platform just to feel the […]
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i smelled jasmine today – cut my lungs wide open. and yesterday, i swear, it was fresh pears on the tree outside my windowmonths too soon. i thought of the way they filled the basketon my bicycle as it leanedagainst the stairs. deflated tires and theache of uneaten fruit. i don’t know where i’ll be when they come again […]
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●●●● preposterous ●●●● how intense grief ●●●● reminds you of ●●●● games it is not: ●● pac-man, ●●● galaga, ●●●● major havoc ●●●● embarrassing ●●●● there is a face ●●●● to which grief cleaves: ● mouth, ● blip, ● gulf, ● whir, ●●●● inaccurate ●●●● the glitching face ●●●● I fight to piece: ● zip, ● clasp, ● jolt, ● wrench, ● twine, ●●●●●●●●●● shouldn’t have opened my windows to you ●●●●●●●●●● should’ve known pain pooled is more […]
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diaCRITICS: “diaCRITICShighlights art, literature, and stories from writers, artists, and culture-makers of the Vietnamese and Southeast Asian diaspora, on and from all shores … Our mission is to represent Vietnamese and Southeast Asian diasporic literature, art, and culture … We publish essays, reviews, creative writing, and profiles and interviews with culture makers. We publish primarily in […]
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Highlighting recently released works by marginalized creators THE LOST CONVERSATION: Interviews with an Enduring Avant-Garde by Sara Farrington“In this collection of interviews conducted between 2019-2021 with New York theater artists who have spent their lives working in and inventing the avant-garde, playwright Sara Farrington brings to light a series of “lost conversations” about class, race, […]
Read moreBeing her family history’s archivist while weaving a story of her own, Thương Hoài Trần (she/they) is an interdisciplinary artist based in Chicago, IL. Combining their training in printmaking with newfound skills in fibers, she documents a familial immigrant story told to them through word-of-mouth and old photographs. How would you introduce yourself as an […]
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The red and purple lights that seep into the windows from the carwash infuses the atmosphere with a tantalizing tone, one that I am all too familiar with at this point in my life. Like any other 17-year-old high school junior, I am wired. I am antsy. I am using this opportunity as a mission […]
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pistachio milk a refrigerator in which to store the pistachio milk floorboards upon which to set the refrigerator in which to store the pistachio milk kitchen walls that house the floorboards upon which to set the refrigerator in which to store the pistachio milk apartment ceiling to support the kitchen walls that house the floorboards […]
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Highlighting recently released works by marginalized creators Aerial Concave Without Cloud by Sueyeun Juliette Lee “Aerial Concave Without Cloud is a collection of poetry steeped in the bluest apocalypse light of solar collapse and the pale, ghostly light of personal devastation and grief. Through a combination of academic research and the salp’uri dance form, Sueyeun Juliette […]
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Mahalia Sobhani (she/her) is a barista and social work student in southeastern Wisconsin. She is the oldest of ten and has a Pisces moon, which explains a lot. Her work can also be found in Catatonic Daughters and the Oakland Arts Review as well as the forthcoming Bonemilk anthology from Gutslut Press. You can find […]
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Miriam Saperstein is an artist, ritual-crafter and logistics maven based in Detroit, and soonmoving to Philly. Their writing and art have appeared in ctrl + v, Jewish Currents, thelickety~split, Pollux Journal, New Voices Magazine, and PROTOCOLS. You can find theirzines at miriamsaperstein.gumroad.com.
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Beestung Special issue: TRANS IS THE FUTURE. THE FUTURE IS TRANS.: “For this special issue of beestung, we’re seeking works by nonbinary and two-spirit writers that cross not only gender but also genre and form. We want your barely-legible; your not-fiction, not-poetry, and definitely-not-binary words. We want speculative work that can only do what it does […]
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no repeats or hesitation.i go first, ‘cause you’re the worst. category is: taste. in my dreams, you taste like stale lemon drops.overripe blueberries splitting down chin, tension wrought between us like a knifeslicing into the flesh of a peach. i cradle the pitin my cheek. dalgona kind of lethargic,seaweed-around-rice kind of unraveling, and so […]
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Britt DiBartolo is a poet living in western North Carolina. She recently graduated with herMaster’s in English literature from the University of Tennessee and now teaches research andwriting to high schoolers. Her work has appeared/is forthcoming in the Rising Phoenix Review,Pigeon Parade Quarterly, and elsewhere. She’s @frangipansy on Instagram.
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There is something special about seeing an artist create a self-portrait. Through a self-portrait you can analyze what an artist finds valuable, what they overlook, and how they wish to be perceived by their audience. For this month’s issue, I interviewed Jordan Ismaiel Ramsey (they/them), an artist committed to self-portraiture as a form of self-reliance. […]
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I only knew her for one night. She was performing a show where she screamed for two hours uninterrupted without a single variation in pitch. I had no plans for the evening. Over a Sazerac, the hotel bartender told me he’d won a ticket in a raffle for donating plasma and her performance had been […]
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Tacos de cabeza Beef head tacos. The love of your life. Only available in the morning. You have been eating tacos de cabeza since you were in your mother’s belly. You were born with tiny head tacos’ grease on your nose. There is a puestecito near the mercado in Obregón, Sonora. They were a few […]
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2022 Open Mouth Retreat: “an entire weekend full of community-building, generative writing workshops, and conversations between faculty members and small groups of participants. The Retreat fosters a welcoming space for poets to dive deeper into writing and generate new, challenging work … with faculty Alison C. Rollins and Paul Tran, hosted virtually June 10-12.” “The cost […]
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Artist, spider sculptor, Louise Bourgeois said, “You pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture.” I remember the last time I spoke to Catherine Lacey in person was at a New Year’s Eve party in Chicago, December 31, 2019. We ate lasagna. The world was different then. […]
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This month’s spotlighted artist is Malí Bilstad (they/them). Currently finishing up their degrees in Illustration and Theater at Iowa State University, Malí is an illustrator creating their own tales of childhood fantasy. By doing this they hope to create worlds that their audience can escape reality from and find themselves in. Who are you as […]
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When I was four years old and learning to read, my born-again Christian grandfather gifted me a children’s bible. I was unimpressed by this offering because I couldn’t read but the illustrations remain in my mind thirty-five years later, especially the ones involving the gory demise of Jesus at the end of the book. “Who […]
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The neighbours all thought we were con artists. Maybe they were right. We met while waiting to view the apartment and pretended to be sisters to charm the landlord. It was never about influence. It was only about shelter. We just wanted to escape the heat. The ruse was instantly believable, even to us. Our […]
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Tackling issues with post-grad life adjustment, work anxiety, and impulse purchases, Amy Chu (@camoot.journal) gives her viewers a multi-faceted look at modern day adult obstacles and the escapism she finds through imagination and art. A recent grad of SMFA Tufts in Boston, Amy’s work showcases her interest in vulnerability and storytelling while taking inspiration from […]
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My family has the luck of a penniless black cat at a high-stakes casino. When I was twelve, my mother, my father, and my older brother Jeffrey took a vacation to Hawaii. Jeffrey went surfing in the deep, blue ocean while I stayed ashore and observed jittery sand crabs as they popped in and out […]
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I pace the house looking for the dog, the ghost of the dog, the ghost of someone. The mother and dynasty and mausoleum I carry inside me. Something. It feels here but not, a muted anticipation, a phantom limb, when you brush the wall in the dark to hit the light switch you’ve struck a […]
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Inspired by ‘The Cool Girl Monologue’ (Gone Girl, 2014; Directed by David Fincher). I should’ve known that it wouldn’t work out between us. We were too different, too incongruous. And no matter what transpired among us, there was always one lingering question: were we ever truly in love? You fell for someone who never existed; […]
Read moreFor this month’s issue I interviewed Vicky Liang, an illustrator/artist currently based in New Jersey. Saccharine, round, and able to make one’s cheeks blush, Vicky’s illustrations capture innocent vision through singular pieces and small-page comics. Taking homage from her inspirations in children’s book illustration and Studio Ghibli media, Vicky incorporates elements such as anthropomorphic animals, […]
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Dear Mummiji, Your ink black hair parted in the middle like an open book of mysteries. Your marble-sized red bindi resting above your third eye, giving way to your fading brows the same haphazard shape as mine. Your diamond nose ring, glinting mischievously in the dusty morning light of Mumbai. Your puckered lips, one darker […]
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Where you are from? What are your passions and hobbies? My full name is Alexandra Cristina Dumitrică. I was born in Bucharest, Romania, during a rainy November night almost 21 years ago. Today, I still live in Bucharest, where I study Pharmacy at University of Medicine and Pharmacy “Carol Davila.” Even though the career path I […]
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If I could smoke fear away I’d roll that motherfucker up. -Kendrick Lamar More than a year and a half after my last sip of alcohol, I still get nightmares about drinking again. And they are nightmares, despite the scene being only in my little kitchen, me standing at the sink, swirling my icy glass […]
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I am a Sarah Lawrence girl who loves Sarah Lawrence girls. Many of us do– we love to love each other. Staring over sociology books, all of us in love with whoever we find looking back. We keep secrets under a cherry blossom tree that’s no longer there. We huddle under the sculpture rumored to […]
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a leaf caught between two fingers snatch back the words, unchosen, opting instead for some that won’t place my heart between your palms. I dandelion-wish the next phrase can transplant the muscle from where it’s lived so long on my bloodied sleeve, press it back into my chest where it belongs even though I know […]
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my discount full-size mattress has traditionally been known to comfortably accommodate a maximum party of 2—maybe— on a cool night when the hot air trapped between my legs and the old duvet isn’t so severe as to de-wrinkle the sheets but this night, we bunked our bodies, stacked like buttered toast on a diner plate […]
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Across our bowl deep as our atmosphere, you provide friction for those attempting re-entry. Clouds are garments you put on and discard. You layer them up and peel them off. When you fling them they scoop us up and hurl down on us. I saw your bare chest once on a late summer evening in […]
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it is a bright orange sunday and my fists are unripening and i am still contemplating that baby albino turtle born with a wide open heart – so tender and exposed, a small pulsing blackberry abandoned by his own shell. i try to cup his breaths like running water with my two inconsolable hands; each […]
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i think often of what i am worth in bounties— what would you trade for my teeth back, cleaned? what would you borrow to bring me home? what would even be home enough for me and another person to both know it? i am laughed out of my own voice when i am worried i […]
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Hand me a towel I’m dirty dancin’ with Gina’s pink-budded tongueuntil she lets out a moan almost loud enough for someone to hear.I’ve been a connoisseur of un-out women; now that I think about itthe ones with daddy issues, unstable self-images, and bluntsdipped in promethazine. We smoke gas in the back of Julian’s pickupand you […]
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tuesday nights: fold tiny paper birds smudged white ignore phone numbers i’ll never text tie off lovers like old stories with a string i’ll crown myself jeweled with flowers hide my face cross out the name of you like a to-do list make vows for tomorrow, to growl alone. Stephanie Valente lives in Brooklyn, […]
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You told me you had your first kiss at Papa Chinos by the bushes I was awestruck that a Papa Chinos exists where they have bushes I wonder what kind of a neighbourhood you grew up in Was it a brownstone one, with houses lined one after the other or was it a scene […]
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Of all my inheritances my father’s appetite pulls heaviest the translucent ache licks my joints sweet a mouth without a mouth begging not for fullness but to be rid of absence a man who praises water’s return to shore transforms my […]
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Where are you from? What kind of work do you do? I am from Saint-Petersburg Russia, but live in Israel now. I work as an illustrator and graphic designer. When did you begin illustrating? Could you tell us what your process is? I began illustrating about 6 years ago, after finding a modern illustration catalog […]
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She lies back on the bed while he watches the snow outside settling softly like the skin in the curve of her back. With the curtains and his attention drawn back inside, the soft machine of his body reminds her of the streets after the plow comes through. She sighs and thinks a mouth is […]
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After Brad Paisley, “Ticks” Every atmosphere you bottle to your lips was the other half of an idea. Let’s get out of drive, find a moonlight, kiss a path I used to […]
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molten time // or perhaps memories, wet with windings and wanderings, wondering and the wariness and weariness the waxed (and waned) songs the many psalms sung and hung from expectant arms beings of ground pulled from homes soused with the whispers of living ghosts i came to give offerings at the place where trees come […]
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I would bang the egg of my forehead against bathroom walls Sunday mornings. ✝ My parents would drop me at Amy’s then over coffee cake and orange juice they’d whisper “We sure do love her, but—” I had a dream last night Amy. We were holding hands walking by the side of Route 55 […]
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In this treatment, I am Cameron Frye and my old man, that’s me too, I am the interminable clang against my skull, making a charmed life a nightmare, making an exquisite home a hellhole. I am trying to evade consequences of freedom. It is so dirty and so frightening, I recoil. Freedom dings and puts […]
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VAGABOND CITY 