The horizon wasn’t sewn in a straight line. It looked unstitched. Ruched. Wind torn whitecaps like stuffing clawed from a quilt.
He could see the silken clarity of cobalt blue interrupt the slate green water that ...
Two Red Flags by James Lowell
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
Over Thanksgiving, my mother tells me that wearing black casts illusions. At first, I hear that it makes one’s body look dimmer. Outside, the daylight fades from everywhere at once. The specific music of a Northern ...
Self Portrait as Candle Song by Cole Pragides
LAR Online, Nonfiction
Your Wi-Fi is a birdsongHere it is, National Bison Day, and I’m left aloneby the group, which makes me the easiest prey.So let’s go over the safety stuff. If a bison loves you,it will show you with its head. Well, ...
Two Poems by Péter Závada Translated by Péter Závada and Kris Herbert
Translations
“Tomorrow belongs to those of us who conceive of it as belonging to everyone, who lend the best of ourselves to it, and with joy.” — Audre Lorde, “A Burst of Light”
“Joy is an act of resistance.” — Toi ...
Introducing LAR Latinx Digital Poetics: Resistance Through Joy
Electronic Lit, LAR Online, Poetry
When Eyimofe told Yewande that he would be returning home for this season’s Christmas and New Year holidays, she decided to keep it a secret from everyone who had been a part of his journey to America. But everyone who ...
Bugs From America by Temi Mosimiloluwa
Fiction, LAR Online
Small Altars by Justin Gardiner
Review by Amilya Robinson
Publisher: Tupelo Press
Publication Date: 04/03/24
ISBN-13: 978-1-961209-06-0
Pages: 67
In the Shadow of Heroes: A Review of Justin Gardiner’s Small ...
Small Altars by Justin Gardiner Review by Amilya Robinson
Book Reviews, LAR Online
Dani Blackman’s short prose has most recently appeared in Bellingham Review, Fractured Lit, Citron Review, Epiphany, Witness, and elsewhere. She was a finalist for the Reynolds Price ...
Dear Dopamine by Dani Blackman
Flash Fiction, LAR Online
I’m suspended in the chair, trapped in a staring contest with my own reflection. Joey moves around me with wordless precision, scissors glinting under fluorescent lights. I prefer the silent ones—stylists who treat ...
The Torture Seat by Chris Wu
LAR Online, Nonfiction
XVI To Henry Guy Carleton A good man gestures with the collar of his shirt I watch him as time churns wakefulnessclimbing the hours of a natural goodness like the roses in his garden He has a commitment I read it in ...
