from Cœurs, livres d’amour, by Hélène DorionThis morning the wind embraces the house, holdsthe trees close as your silence holds me.The expanse is erased, leaving nothing but my bodymy fine veins, my hands ...
Selected poems from Hearts, Books of Love by Hélène Dorion Translated by Susanna Lang
LAR Online, Translations
Fairytale of Old Town Pasadena I’m waiting for your shift to end scooping baklava ice cream in an alley storefront better suited to hawking bacon-wrapped hot dogs to the drunks staggering home with sticky shoes from ...
Two Poems by Michael Juliani
LAR Online, Poetry
I loved my mother. She bought me an alarm clock for my twelfth birthday because I was always late to school, slow to wake under her gentle hands. She smelled of powdery makeup and sweet perfume. Her steps made no sound ...
Sugar by Annabelle Taghinia
Fiction, LAR Online
Three weeks ago, something small began scratching inside me. A dry cough: brief, harmless at first. Then came the itch, like the brush of a wing beneath my ribs.
No fever. No pain. Just the constant feeling that my ...
WINGS BEHIND THE WALLS, Written and Translated by Gustavo Vázquez-Lozano
LAR Online, Translations
Some nights I sense the life I led twelve years ago is ongoing, just elsewhere. In that reality, my barber pumps waves into my deadass flat hair twice a year and there’s a washer and dryer in my unit and my mom calls ...
Laundralaxy by Katy Storch
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
On the way home from my Saturday Alanon meeting, I realize it’s my father’s sobriety anniversary. Fifty years. Should I call him? He’s on a ranch somewhere south of Austin with eight of his college buddies, and I ...
Home Team by Christie Tate
LAR Online, Nonfiction
Alice, or the Wild Girl by Michael Robert Liska
Reviewer: Kazuo Robinson
Publisher: Heresy Press
Publication Date: September 9, 2025
ISBN: 9781949846720
Pages: 408
“Never love a wild thing,” Holly Golightly ...
Alice, or the Wild Girl by Michael Robert Liska Reviewed by Kazuo Robinson
Book Reviews, LAR Online
For Brooklyn
1.We stand in frontof the sink asbrush afterperfect brushshe fixes my hair I watchstrands fall herhands smoothingan endless process ofchecking rechecking– Does this hurt?I am so still as tonot ...
This Is How A Desert Moves by Rosalynn Blaisdell
LAR Online, Poetry
Phobia – excerpt
Back in the 70s, my dad and the neighborhood kids spent most of their summers on the banks of the creek. They had no allowances to spend on even those few opportunities that a provincial city offered ...
Fóbia by Szöllősi Mátyás Translated by Joe Váradi
LAR Online, Translations
