Winter 2021

The Winter Issue | 2021

Poetry by Matthew Olzmann, Leanne Drapeau, Andrea Jurjević, Vítězslav Nezval, Sheila Dong, Stephen Scott Whitaker, Richard Jackson, Ondřej Buddeus, and Jeff Fallis. Fiction by E.J. Schwartz, Pavol Rankov, and Julia Kissina. Essays by Chris Crawford, Michael Stein, Burt Kimmelman, and Rob A. Mackenzie. Reviews by Ailbhe Darcy, Michael Stein, and Stephan Delbos. An interview with artist Khari Johnson-Ricks by Jessica Mensch.

The Winter Issue | 2021

Poetry by Matthew Olzmann, Leanne Drapeau, Andrea Jurjević, Vítězslav Nezval, Sheila Dong, Stephen Scott Whitaker, Richard Jackson, Ondřej Buddeus, and Jeff Fallis. Fiction by E.J. Schwartz, Pavol Rankov, and Julia Kissina. Essays by Chris Crawford, Michael Stein, Burt Kimmelman, and Rob A. Mackenzie. Reviews by Ailbhe Darcy, Michael Stein, and Stephan Delbos. An interview with artist Khari Johnson-Ricks by Jessica Mensch.

Sheila Dong

ABSENTEE a plastic sword sits in the dirt, next to a blank sandwich board. no one else is around so i wear the board and

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Death of the Artists: Marinetti’s Last Stand

This Marinetti on his second and final trip to Russia was less like one of the early figures of punk than a bloated 70s rock dinosaur living on past glory and greed. Instead of cocaine he had fascism, and just like the rock megastars with their producers and managers he had the backing of a bald, fat megalomaniac.

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Ondřej Buddeus

The initiating parameter was me realizing that the horizon is a line constituting an intersection between at least two systems, the inner and the outer one. Between an observer on the move and the roads within the landscape …

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Richard Jackson

the story / the two white women will not retract, despite the fact /
that inside each story we tell another writes itself

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Julia Kissina

When the dogs had finished their business, they were, for quite some time afterward, unable to disentangle, and the Abbot asked us not to disturb them.

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Andrea Jurjević

the intoxicating ministry of dusk, the anchor of daylight lifting, sheets white / like a freshly crushed pill, // the vortex of the body and the clap of the / coral tongue…

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Matthew Olzmann. Photo by Margarita Corporan

Matthew Olzmann

The thing with fathers is each was built /
in the same factory, each has a single atomic clock /
inside his chest; there’s a timer /
on every question.

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Magnetized by Carlos Busqued | Review

You read a book about a serial killer expecting to feel terror when he raises his gun or knife but here it comes in bursts of hard-earned self-insight: “I fantasized about being a person, which I never was in real life.”

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Pavol Rankov

In the evenings Karcsi sat quietly at the table and watched his mother pray. Her lips moved silently through the rosary, and he looked as if he were trying to figure out which part of the prayer she was saying.

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E.J. Schwartz

GOLD Billie is the first to sprout breasts in our bunk, her body so coveted amongst our puny group that when she admits to picking

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