35.1 Summer/Fall 2022



Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction


From the Archives

Heavy-Headed

Aram Mrjoian

My head often feels filled with concrete. This is not to say congested. If anything, I am rarely sick.

from Il tempo di una cometa

Stella N’Djoku, Transl. by Julia Anastasia Pelosi-Thorpe

something remains of our being / braided flesh and muscle / or we’re chilled / bags for bone.

The Wet Side

Jerilynn Aquino

When someone at school asks, “Where are you from?” what they mean is, “Are you from the wet side or the dry side?” You are from the wet side, the side more prone to damage.

EXPLICATION OF THE POET’S BREASTS

Kelly Weber

I can’t write about breasts without thinking of damselflies stinging the surface of water.