Poetry
American Interstate
Roy Zhu The brainless, seemingly unintelligent organism (Physarum polycephalum) has been harnessed to transfer specific colors between foods dyed with food coloring, move a small boat through a gel medium and even solve mazes. Over the past several years, [scientists] have used the slime mold to do something astoundingly complicated: design plans for national highway… Read More American Interstate
Nothing more than rolling skies
Vrinda Anurag Gupta Nothing more than rolling skies. Beaded, bound, wrapped around abound in lands that bask in shrouds. Shrouds of scalding, sweating, rich. Every moulting light a lasting gift that wraps me tight in arms of bliss. A blazing blanket, this heavenly honey flowing languid sweetening sweat to a sherbet banquet— my hunger whet,… Read More Nothing more than rolling skies
I Like Everything Under the Sun
Khyla Bussey Took me a while to store enough magazines grandma’s old ebony and editions left behind in the student center, cut them into unrecognizable scraps, compile myself in unwanted colors, a remaking as a sunflower, searching for the face of starshine smiling and remembering life might be of Genesis, despite the serpents (or more… Read More I Like Everything Under the Sun
kathaa / कथा / the saga
Kaavya Butaney not everything makes a good story, my love. we repeat the same lines, traverse smooth palms one more time to see if this was all fated (spoiler: it was), we walk across the same canyons and trip down dark alleyways, bruce wayne always loses his parents and odysseus always returns to penelope. the… Read More kathaa / कथा / the saga
floods
April Li at ten years old you were left at the dinner table when the floods came. your father had picked your mother and sister up, one under each arm, and run to the school. when he returned and saw you still sitting there, all he said was why are you still here? forty years… Read More floods
dear judas
Eleni Tecos dear judas, if nothing else, spare me from retribution, release me from the vines of our sins, soothe my aching wounds. or if you have shame, let my blood fill your lungs – a reckoning strangulation to mirror the marring of my crown as i bled for you. [april, june, july.] though i… Read More dear judas
Rounding down
Linsey Liao the heaviest segments of me are watermelon flesh, ripe with spoons of tissue colored webs, arteries curling into themselves. when can i subtract myself like math, shed my rind in binary code or the canceled parts of a equation? guess i was never good at math, nor keeping my utensils. berries are easy,… Read More Rounding down
The Sun Down Cafe Shuts Down
Juliana Hung Distraction. Thoughts wander from habit. I roam, unwire from work. The specks of plush trees settle into damp leaves In my neighborhood that’s lined in sidewalk. I imagine Asphalt as the track that coats these hills, where I ride the tide across the street, and tip tap toe On cobbled steps, oh down… Read More The Sun Down Cafe Shuts Down
On a golden disc, some 15,147, 117, 891 odd miles out in space at the time of writing.
Tabi Parent Somewhere out there between Betelgeuse — Orion: cosmic glint off the side of the spaceship cruising down the interstellar at 35000 miles per hour is the heart of a 27-year-old woman in love. Ann Druyan knew that when he died, she would never see Carl Sagan again. To her, death was never anything… Read More On a golden disc, some 15,147, 117, 891 odd miles out in space at the time of writing.
I like america & america likes me
after Joseph Beuys Bazil Frueh (No I didn’t know I wish I had But I don’t) Sex as performance: Ass up, Hind legs splayed out Everything’s red— I see stripes As a worn hand Pushes me closer To the betsy ross Bed spread, Reminding me How big a country Can be. Sex as endurance: He… Read More I like america & america likes me
