featuring new work by Safia Elhillo, Nkosi Nkululeko, Elliott batTzedek translating Shez, and Katie Shireen Assef translating Michèle Lesbre
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.
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-
In a new plague of pop-up ads, what is lost is what is seen.
What is not seen, never was.
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.
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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