poem: Christina Springer

  The Women Think About Holidays (for Henry White)   the men are important.  the men must not be disturbed.  the men are thinking. the men are talking.    the women are doing.  the women have taken their wares to market. the women have tended their fields well. the women teach their children to flow. the women have plates.  the women have folded napkins.  the women have fifteen dishes in...

the line: Issue nO. 3

Issue nO.3 of the magazine was supposed to be about looking at the line. Award winning photographer, Wyatt Gallery, inspired us with eloquent visual images in his studies of the aftermath of hurricanes and tsunamis. We began wondering about how art identifies the lines between destruction and survival. We sent out a call, added a new poetry editor in the spectacular shape of Jeanann Verlee and ultimately...

poem: Cristin O’Keef...

Starter Marriage With love, there is the bright, white, flashbulb moment, sealed with a kiss, of course, and that marks the slick second in which a marriage begins. But, friend, you and I have been tied to each other hips for years without cake, or bouquet, and definitely no kiss. Friendship, a high school pal once said, is a ship big enough for one, and I remember tapping his cheek with my fingers. Oh,...

poems: Roger Bonair-Agard

Defense – 1988 Milt is chillin’ / Gizmo’s chillin what more can i say, Top Billin’…         Audio Two I. pickup The drug dealers wear brightly colored velour sweatsuits open to the waist. Thick gold rope chains hang past their sternums Four-finger rings mimick a skyline on their fingers and the gazelles framing their faces under the...

poems: J.W. Basilo

Anointing the Hand     for Gabrielle Bouliane, Gabrielle Calvocoressi, anyone who has ever gotten up Often when a fighter sees his own blood, the fight is over. A mere trickle off the nose a slow knockout, he has begun his descent to the turf, waving for no more. The pacifist and I are discussing the cuts on my hand, the missing skin the red divots. Furrowing into her French Toast, Hilary with...

photo essay: Regine Romain

AYITI: REACHING HIGHER GROUND “They are in many respects a fine looking people. There is about them a sort of majesty. They carry themselves proudly erect as if conscious of their freedom and independence.” Frederick Douglas, Former United States Minister to the Republic of Haïti, Lecture on Haïti, Chicago, IL, January 2, 1893 Betwixt light and shadows, I research and photograph Haiti’s shifting...

fiction: Rohin Guha

We Sat Around For a While & Talked About Eyjafjallajökull 1. We sat around for a while and talked about Eyjafjallajökull. The 5 train was stalled somewhere between Union Square and Grand Central and it was 3:28 Saturday morning. My breath reeked of vodka and French Fries. The girl sitting next to me had mascara creeping down her cheeks like spider legs. She was sitting on the opposite end of the...

poems: Victoria McCoy

A Name for This 1 I used to buy that homeless man coffee—the salty breath of Venice on our necks, he, cradling the toothbrush he claimed an angel down the boardwalk gave him. 2 The halos on the ancient Roman statues are not in fact halos, but an early device meant to keep bird shit off their defenseless faces. 3 Maybe my limbs are...

the playlist: For Queer Ki...

Track 1: Feminism Is For Everybody by bell hooks Though this book isn’t explicitly about being queer, bell hooks’s ideas really are valuable for anyone trying to make a space for themselves in a society that is often unwelcoming, if not hostile. Her argument is simple: Though feminism has gotten the reputation of being about straight, white women burning their bras, the truth is that feminism is...

fiction: Lara Stapleton

New I wondered if it was the light that muted our colors. The sun doesn’t shine as brightly onto our streets, and so I can’t get the same satisfaction in New York, my home. In New Orleans, I had found myself experiencing little highs all day. I wandered around in that damn heat, looking at little houses flanked with bushes and trees breaking open with flowers. I felt lifted when my eyes landed...

photo essay: Ocean Morisse...

HAITI IN THE NEW MILLINIEUM In a six year period, Haiti has been ravaged by two natural disasters. In 2004 Hurricane Jeanne ripped through the coastal city of Gonaives, killing thousands. Then, on January 12, 2010, Haiti sustained a 7.0 magnitude earthquake that crippled the capital city of Port-au-Prince, leaving many Haitians dead or displaced. This essay in part documents the aftermath of these...

« Older Entries Next Entries »