The city was a marshmallow of sticky smog and I wanted out. I carried bags loaded with beach towels and sandwiches down the front steps while George checked the oil of the old car. I had to step around a couple of languid coffee drinkers who’d spilled out of the café on the corner and made themselves comfortable on our stairs. Everyone was in my way.
The dog, Spirit, came up from the cove looking like he’d been walking through tar. His eyes were still mirthful, though closing toward one of his late-afternoon naps. Nestor didn’t [More…]
What I remember most is the doorbell interrupting loudly and repeatedly; a melody of identical pitches that evoked nervousness and a sense of urgency. I was molding Play-Doh on the [More…]
It was two o’clock in the afternoon in a rooming house on Hutchinson Street, but it could have been anytime. David put his suitcase down on the threadbare carpet next [More…]
Wendy Thompson Taiwo received a Ph.D. in American Studies from the University of Maryland and was a Postdoctoral Associate in the Department of History at the University of Minnesota from 2009–2010 where she began a research project documenting the everyday lives of African traders in Hong Kong and China. She is currently turning this project into a book.
Mara Sternberg works at an emergency veterinary hospital, models in the Keyhole Sessions erotic life drawing class, does paste-up graffiti, and gardens illegally. With her time in between she makes small comics about snow and Batman, which can be found at www.steeltoedblues.com.
Traveling west from Kandahar City into the Zharey district in July 2008, on desert bypass “routes,” knees smashing against the metal seat of the gunner’s nest across from me, I [More…]
How will we clean up this mess?
Phaethon tumbled with a bang
in a scalding blaze of hubris
and the sun, that misbehaved star, now moves
like a curve ball hit into left field.
Fact 1: the chariot has no driver.
on the table, irises
hold tablets of sulphur
on their tongues. We’ve eaten
the bread out of the kitchen
and the eggs
Though your sins be as scarlet,
they shall be white as snow.
No one bleeds in fairy tales
except by sword or axe or
shards of glass falling from the sky.
If bleeding occurs, towers are built