featuring new work by Safia Elhillo, Nkosi Nkululeko, Elliott batTzedek translating Shez, and Katie Shireen Assef translating Michèle Lesbre
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If only I could refer to myself as an “it,” o how easy it would be, entering myself; full of airways and roof-tethered animals. O the slaughterhouse I’ve become. Nkosi Nkululeko I taught a class where we worked in homeless shelters and
community gardens and food distribution centers. The students wanted to change the world, but sometimes Question Authority was a barrier between us. Sometimes we shoveled horseshit side- by-side. Erin Stalcup |
In a new plague of pop-up ads, what is lost is what is seen. What is not seen, never was. Tom Haviv It is interesting,
reading comparative translations. My mind wanders, lingering on the things I have done with my body, do with my body, comparing these with the things other people do with their bodies. Bennett Allen |
I’ve dreamed happiness and found it venom, like waking up on the bus with my skirt on fire. Caroline Tracey
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