Embody by P.K., trans. Kaitlin Rees
“Embody” first appeared in bilingual magazine AJAR issue 2, which is published in Hanoi. A few changes have been made from the original publication. Hóa thân Hắn mắc phải một chứng bệnh… Continue reading
HORSES — Kate Millar
He and She drank green tea in a Hanoi alley where a woman had just slaughtered three chickens. As the woman held the limp necks and plucked feathers from the carcasses, He and… Continue reading
Undeferred — Ted Chiles
We were in the common room of Russell Hall, a freshman men’s dormitory at our small Presbyterian College in Western Pennsylvania waiting for our draft number to be drawn. The room was dark… Continue reading
Tripping in Vietnam — Susan Fealy
(i) Saigon In Saigon, water is omnipresent; it saturates the air, travelling down Saigon River feels more like entering the sea. It smells of rain. After rain, lacquered altars on the footpaths seem… Continue reading
Artwork — S. Todd Wall
*** S. Todd Wall is an artist/educator that has spent the last 15 years working and making art throughout Asia while returning to his home/studio periodically in rural, upstate South Carolina, USA.… Continue reading
2 poems — Richard Olson
A Place Called Hope My grandmother wrote me in a letter once when I was in Viet- nam, out in the Plain of Reeds how she’d been looking for a map of Viet-… Continue reading
Oarswoman — Rick Silva
Firm in the mud, astride the timestream slip between darkness of Delta night-quiet and the brick kiln flare of full day, the dredging rigs have a line of barges waiting, and she is… Continue reading
Freedom is shriveling and consciousness has been assassinated by Phạm Vũ Văn Khoa , trans. Kaitlin Rees
“Freedom is shriveling and consciousness has been assassinated” first appeared in bilingual magazine AJAR issue 2, which is published in Hanoi. A few changes have been made from the original publication. Tự do… Continue reading
Ridden — Jason Marc Harris
“Memory is another name for ghosts and their awful hunger.” — from “Apple” by Eugene Gloria It was Hmong New Year. Phang was thirteen-years-old, and Grandfather Zaj told his stories to the… Continue reading
FEATURED ARTIST — SUSAN DAVID
ARTIST STATEMENT I often think about the fragility of the body and how it relates to memory, my own as well as in a broader context. I am interested in exploring memory and… Continue reading
PLOW — Wendell Mayo
After teaching my morning section of first-year composition, I give my tally to Professor Gertrude Montbatten: NINE students owning up to misused possessives, EIGHT run-ons consecutively colliding in zany train wrecks, and SEVEN… Continue reading
2 poems — Sandra Kohler
MINDFUL Tuesday. Gray Tuesday. The day of which one must be mindful is always Tuesday, a day of no particular meaning, its minimal taste offered, water to the tongue, like the drink you… Continue reading
2 poems — Jonathan Travelstead
ADDICTION TRACT Because children’s coloring books teach us to find What is Missing from one of two similar pictures, I consider what was never there: Tonguing the molar whose pith- porous as a… Continue reading
landscapes & nudes — Mark Loebach
Click on Images to Enlarge. Mark Loebach spent years traveling through Europe and the United States gaining perspective and using art as therapy. The years of constant change are represented in his… Continue reading
THE YOUNG AND MAGICAL MAGICIAN — SUSAN WOODRING
That year for Christmas, their fifteen-year-old son asked for a magic kit. But neither parent thought this was a good idea. Brandon was too old for such a toy. The dad was embarrassed… Continue reading
DIALOGUE WITH GEORGIA O’KEEFFE IV: Feast For The Dead–Patricia Meek
Why do you weep for me? I am everywhere. 1. I whisper this epitaph through whistle bone on the impossible climb to God’s table laden with the gifts I’ve prepared deep within my… Continue reading
2 poems — Kevin Heaton
BRING ME MY SHEAVES Sunshowers spit-shined the shark’s tooth that gutted Kansas’ only diamondback. You were just a puff adder feigning rattles— scavenging rat droppings for field mice in bales of switchgrass. I… Continue reading
Pictures — Laura Kathleen Marsico
Click Image to Enlarge. *** Laura Kathleen Marsico is a fan of animals, music and plants. She is living in Pittsburgh, PA while attempting to solve a few of life’s mysteries.
AGAINST LETHE — RUTH FOLEY
And what of the disappeared? What of the moments rising from the bottom of the spring In fever, we found each other once, like drowning men scraping their fingers raw against the rocks… Continue reading
1:00 AM Beneath Bronze Arches — Yermiyahu Ahron Taub
And even though she was renowned throughout the region for her souffles supreme so sweet so savory so fluffy some of which she filled with jams crafted from fruit— apples, peaches, strawberries, and… Continue reading
CHEMO/LAWN — S.L. WISENBERG
We want to believe, and do, that the hair springs back, like that, after chemo, that it knows that it’s safe to return. We remember the oncology resident saying, I remember you,… Continue reading
Fairy Prose — Laura Madeline Wiseman
BLUE BOOK FAIRIES The fairies show me their tails. They bend over in uttanasana and hold their big toes, butts like knees in the air under statin fabric. Two of them stand and… Continue reading
FEATURED ARTIST — Jennifer Moore
ARTIST STATEMENT In my work, I attempt to investigate an unworldly narrative that exists only within the confines of my photographic frame. I also seek to explore the notion of consequences. Themes typically… Continue reading
3 poems — Ellen Elder
IN A SALVADOR DALI PAINTING I have sex with ghosts (she says). You look better as a clam shell (he says). Love me ripe into a pomegranate. The waltz of a camel. I… Continue reading
DREAMS OF NOTHING — Frederick Pollack
1 The rent is paid, which has the status of a miracle, self-wrought, his alone; or an escape, however brief. He draws the shades, so that in time he will imagine a day… Continue reading
RHODES TOWN — Mark Lewandowski
I found myself wandering Rhodes Old Town not too long ago, and even though it was my fourth time there in the past week, I was satisfyingly lost within ten minutes. Twilight oozed… Continue reading
DESTRUCTION/HUNGER –Amber Nelson
The basic reason for my life is that there comes a time when I am guided by a great hunger. ~ Clarice Lispector, The Breath of Life “When I feel hunger, I have… Continue reading
11 Photographs — Michael Yatsko
Click Images to Enlarge
3 poems — Tim Kahl
THE ALPENHORN The herders sounded all is well to the Kingdom Hall below in the valley, where both halves of the mind are held together by the lessons learned from Abraham. They are… Continue reading