• Author Interviews

    Joanne Dominique DwyerInterview: Poet Joanne Dominique Dwyer (Belle Laide)

    “Too much of our human existence is based on making money and getting errands done. It’s such a waste of the gift of life, not to celebrate and bring magic and mystery into the everyday.”

  • Poetry

    Siamese twinsIf This Y Could Speak

    Do I miss my half,
    my copy, who twinned me & twined
    down my spine? Yay & nay. Sometimes.

  • Essays


    tablets click into sickly amber plastic like the urine they render so urgent in reverse. click (drop), click (drop), streams of static swishing sound heard on the off-air channels of anything analog.

  • Fiction

    Girlfriend from the FutureMy Girlfriend from the Future

    Love is a choice, a commitment two people make to each other, and with this girl I was beginning to feel like that decision had already been made for me. What had Alternate Future Me been thinking?

  • Visuals

    Child in BeirutBeirut Photos by Rola Khayyat

    My interest in the intersection between art and war developed out of a personal experience, which continued to shape and inform my academic and artistic sensibility.

  • Poetry

    John Lennon street artSome Days I Sound Like a Nihilistic John Lennon (Song)

    Imagine there’s no heaven, and hell
    is explained to us by the Quran
    as the thing muddying our faces.

  • Author Interviews

    Ben TanzerAuthor Q&A: Ben Tanzer (Lost in Space)

    “To be competitive and on, all of the time, involves discipline and schedule, a lot of super-focused manic intensity, and the need to ignore outside distractions, all of which is huge for writing.”

  • Author Interviews

    Charles BlackstoneVintage Attraction: A Happy Hour Interview with Charles Blackstone

    “I think I wanted characters that rejected that sort of accepted protocol. How you meet, how long you remain skeptical, when you submit to love, or at least the idea of love.”

  • Essays

    Mont BlancSweet Little Comforts

    My thought is a mandala, a mantra. A round thing turning over and over in my mind. A focus for my eyes and my breath. It’s as close as I come to prayer.

  • Poetry

    Apple Tree black and whiteEverything I say is a lie

    All of this a lie, because you can’t remember the apple tree,
    so it was never there, and I was never there, and
    and I am just like my father, a liar who remembers things
    that never happened, never were, in those spans of years