FLASH FICTION Encountering by Dan Corfield SCHOOL by Melissa Goodrich Compassion by Amit Majmudar Motor Magic by Steven Murray
SHORT STORIES What Have You Done? by Charles Rafferty
REVIEWS Kicking the Sky by Anthony De Sa The Shimmering Go-Between by Lee Klein
INTERVIEWS An Interview With Tsipi Keller by Cooper Renner
POETRY Two Poems by Kristin George Bagdanov Song for Saratoga Springs (or, a study in Clyde Barrow’s childhood) by Yasmin Belkhyr Diorama Where Two Baby-Dolls Kill Their Grandmother by Nandini Dhar Two Poems by Sara Henry Quijote by Kenan Ince THE ONLY THING WE HAVE TO FEAR IS THE
Review by Virginia Baker
The world is shaped by movement. This migration is part of us, and so is the uncertainty. When we move from one place to the next, all we can expect on is uncertainty. This historical struggle of uncertainty is the bedrock of Kicking the Sky. Canadian author Anthony De Sa has been writing this first novel in his head ever since he was a young boy. De Sa was born and raised in Little Portugal, Toronto, the same neighborhood where his novel takes place. The author’s intimate familiarity with the setting allows him to depict it
Review by Christopher Allen
Any review of Lee Klein’s intricately layered debut novel The Shimmering Go-Between (Atticus Books, 2014) will be an exercise in restraint. The publisher, you see, has requested that reviewers avoid spoilers. Well, apart from giggling for 700 words, I’m not sure how I’ll pull off a spoiler-free introduction of this surprising, and surprisingly believable, story—but here we go . . .
On one of its many levels The Shimmering Go-Between is a love story: love between a man and a woman, a man and himself, the outer man and the inner man, the big man and
| May 16, 2014
Tsipi Keller was born in Prague, raised in Israel, and has been living in the U.S. since 1974. The author of nine books, she is the recipient of several literary awards, including National Endowment for the Arts Translation Fellowships, New York Foundation for the Arts grants, and an Armand G. Erpf award from Columbia University. Her most recent translation collections are: Poets on the Edge: An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry (SUNY Press); and The Hymns of Job & Other Poems, a Lannan Translation Selection (BOA Editions). Her novels include: The Prophet of Tenth Street (2012), Retelling (2006) and Jackpot
Listen to a reading of “Tidal” by Sara Henry.
It’s been sixty-two days since I saw you, and now the sea is looking for me. Salt water seeps under the door, slips through cracks in the walls. Somewhere, the moon is cackling. A hundred seagulls have found my woods, buried themselves in the pines like stars.
Long distance calls make your voice sound like a piece of lint on a windy day. There is sand in my hair, I say. There are shells. Lint-sounds on the line before I hang up.
At night I lie in the
HOW I LIVED THEN
I’m not the marvelous cowboy I dreamed I’d be or his boot or scuff marks on toe of his brown leather boot. I’ve been grabbed by the scruff of my neck when entering
the women’s room, or for crooked smiles across the bar. It’s all rugburn, rough like the voice of Brendan Gallagher who yelled fuck yourself and die you fucking dyke.
It was the school parking lot, the heat off the macadam was searing. I flung my car door open, shook my arms like broken wings, spat in his face. He barreled down
| May 16, 2014
Listen to a reading of “SCHOOL by Melissa Goodrich.
All of the boys in school are breaking their hands. They come in with casts with two fingers and a thumb sticking out. It hurts to grip the computer mouse. It doesn’t hurt to fall asleep on the keyboard. All of the boys are right-handed. All of the boys have pierced mouths. On the break-room door I find the note: “I am taking today off because the air smells like perfume.” And below, in smaller print: “I am taking today off because suddenly I am aware of every nerve in my
Quijote by Kenan Ince [PDF]
About the author:
Kenan Ince is a poet, math graduate student and activist from Dallas. He is currently pursuing his PhD in mathematics at Rice University in Houston. His poems have been published in Black Heart Magazine and in Houston & Nomadic Voices, among others. He was a juried poet in the 2013 Houston Poetry Fest and a featured reader at Houston’s First Friday series.
Listen to a reading of “Song for Saratoga Springs (or, a study in Clyde Barrow’s childhood)” by Yasmin Belkhyr.
A cabin built by broken hands, watermelon too crisp to be sweet, a girl picking stones at the bottom of a lake. A boy paints a deer green. His father shoots it anyway. Later, his house floods, the cattails drown. I skip rocks hollow as his teeth on a lake of salt. In the end, the geese don’t die. The sky dark as a closed fist. A boy peels starfish from wet sand, drowns turtles, understands Texas as locked bathrooms and
what i worry is that the light will never go dark, but will
expand, ever endlessly, until the whole fucking planet is encased in flames & we have
all been consumed like we are nothing but fuel for the sun
to swallow; like that big star hanging in the sky is so blinding
that we can’t none of us see where we are going, only where we have been, so we walk
backwards on our hands crawling in the dust.
About the author:
William James writes poems and listens to punk rock – not always in that order. He’s