Instead of horns, think cello. Slow saw
of the bowstring, sing me an acre
of weeping spruces, a winter with red
details, the reek of a rotted tongue.
I swear I’m not as simple as the stories
make ...
The Wolf as Pick-Up Artist by Emily Rose Cole
LAR Online, Poetry
All you did was use the toilet. Then clear away the blocks Beverly had left scattered in the entryway. You didn’t want anyone to trip later, coming inside. You left her with her sidewalk chalk out in front of the ...
Things Are Already Better Someplace Else by Jody Hobbs Hesler
Fiction, LAR Online
Poem by: Wadiʿ Saʿada
Translated by: Mahmoud Hosny
From the collection of poems Muhawalat Wasl Diffatayni Bi-sawt (Attempt to Connect Two Shores with Sound) (Beirut: Dar al-Nahaar, 1997)
This lake is ...
Restoring a Dissolved Person translated by: Mahmoud Hosny
LAR Online, Translations
We got Turbo when I was nine years old—he was my twenty-first dog. Half coyote, he was the only one equipped to live to old age on our seven-acre corner in the middle of Kansas nowhere.
On a Sunday afternoon, my ...
Soft Animal by Allie Spikes
LAR Online, Nonfiction
In the last hour of night, I lean into
a book that multiplies its pages.
A settling and a continuum:
bedding down of a sedentary body
and a story of an expanding universe.
For nearly three months I’ve ...
On an Island (New York City) by Joseph O. Legaspi
LAR Online, Poetry
An Opportunity of Years
A few days before Christmas 1962, Katherine Anne Porter walked down the hill from Rome’s Hotel d’Inghilterra and stood in the room where Keats died: a narrow chamber with high, ...
An Opportunity of Years by Emily Waples
Nonfiction
We the Jury: Poems
Written by: Wayne Miller
Review by: Mandana Chaffa
Milkweed Editions
Paperback ...
Review: We the Jury by Mandana Chaffa
Book Reviews
Our new mayor, a rat of his word, announced the crackdown after inauguration.
Rottweilers were rounded up first, muzzled, then marched out of town. Few onlookers said a word: a notorious mauling years back stayed ...
On the Rooftops by Alex Sheal
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
After Children
Looking down at her,
dusk lace on one cream leg
a delicate form cast onto the white bed.
She looks like miles of divinity,
her black hair ...
