i come from the amber spell of fields, muddy shoals, fools lighting cigarettes in praise of night,
........from the barn-burning i come
from madmen imprisoned in thunder, heedless tumble of autumn’s last fire, ...
Heartland by Maxima Kahn
LAR Online, Poetry
It was late, eleven o’clock, the end of a day in which Katrina had gotten nothing done, avoiding her studio in favor of the trifecta of time wasters, Facebook and Instagram and Twitter. Her husband, Gabriel, stood in ...
The Weather of Menopause by Louise Marburg
Fiction, LAR Online
Translated by Chamini Kulathunga
Toward the middle of the cigarette, my thoughts turned semicircular and started heading eastward, completely defying my expectations. So now, they must travel through the central hills, ...
Eastbound by Ruwan Bandujeewa
LAR Online, Translations
If pregnancy is a season, the answer
is not spring but winter: the body a cave,
a holding cell of hibernation. Of nesting.
Of torpor. If pregnancy plays music, the violin
and its hollow wooden body, its ribs, its ...
Pregnancy Anaphora by Bridget Bell
LAR Online, Poetry
June Cleaver didn’t keep her house in perfect order. The prop man did it. —Barbara Billingsly
An enchantment and virtual bonding with June Cleaver grew over the span of roughly 93 weeks in 2015-16 ...
June: The Mother We Thought We Knew by Cris Mazza
LAR Online, Nonfiction
Reviewed by Brooke Green
A Nail the Evening Hangs On
Poems by Monica Sok
Copper Canyon Press, February 2020.
$17.00; 60 pp.
ISBN: 978-1556595608
Monica Sok’s radiant debut collection, A Nail the ...
Review: A Nail the Evening Hangs On by Monica Sok
Book Reviews, LAR Online
the swift and ceaseless sprinkler whirling
and flinging its bright globes
drop by drop has filled a blue bowl
left out on the lawn. The little pool
formed by that embrace never stops
breaking and ...
For Those Who Would See by Derek Sheffield
LAR Online, Poetry
Do not look at girls, your dad warns you at the beginning of your teenage years. The first accidental glance is okay, he says. The second is sin.
Your dad. A large man. Powerful eyes. Solemn face. When talking to him ...
Do Not Look at Girls by Rahad Abir
Fiction, LAR Online
Translated by Izidora Angel
On the morning he set off from the village mounted on the old donkey, none of the villagers gathered lamented his leaving and yet their sendoff was strangely ceremonious.
They bowed to ...
Amen by Yordanka Beleva
LAR Online, Translations
