No. 27

No schism occurs without a few pangs and regrets, of course. The animals had heretical ideas, but sometimes they seemed herer than we were. Maybe it was because bits and bytes flew over their heads. Maybe the animals were only ever going to listen to someone who spoke in moons and stars. Of course we never would have stooped to that, pandering to wallabies and penguins, handing out stars like handing out candy. If only there had been some river that could have washed all that magic off, all that moonshine, without washing them away as well.
—Amy Leach

Note
Public Access

Language

No. 27 Brigid Hughes

This is an issue of thinking about language, and its resilience.
Art

Passage

No. 27 Jena H. Kim

Portrait

Hair

No. 27 David Sims

Correspondence

137 Northeast Regional

No. 27 Mónica de la Torre

I would have fallen in love with him too had not so many others done so already.
Music

Scores for Flares

No. 27 Philip Corner

Essay

Strangers

No. 27 Amy Leach

Now that our intelligence, having accelerated for centuries, has almost attained unimpeachability, we are not taking it lightly.
Fiction

A Few Necessary Questions

No. 27 John L’Heureux

It was cruel, it was unspeakable, to allow innocence to mock itself this way.
Portrait

Hues

No. 27 Jamil Hellu

Portfolio

The Travelogues of Ahmad Fа̄ris Shidyа̄q

No. 27 Ahmad Fа̄ris Shidyа̄q

The concept of civilization has acquired such popularity.
Fashion

Unwearable Dress

No. 27 Paco Rabanne

Architecture

Rural Studio

No. 27 Samuel Mockbee

Fiction

Look Up.

No. 27 Lea Carpenter

Maybe he should jump out of a plane. Does risk wake you up?
Poetry

Calligraphies IX

No. 27 Marilyn Hacker

Remember longing / when it was legitimate, / remember writing / in an emerging language.
Portrait

A Girl and Her Room

No. 27 Rania Matar

Fiction

The Tramp

No. 27 John Haskell

What kind of mischief are you up to?
Art

The Acephalous Series

No. 27 Laylah Ali

Poetry

After Pasternak

No. 27 Reginald Gibbons

in dark / cold sleep, each branch a midnight / candelabrum of the cosmos.
Poetry

Obit

No. 27 Victoria Chang

Could I / identify my mother by her hands? / Her feet?
Poetry

Dear Millennium, On The Debt Of Love Among Strangers

No. 27 Karen An-hwei Lee

Once I told you, love is a partial /anagram of solvency. Dear millennium, please— / I owe you nothing.
Poetry

After Doris Salcedo

No. 27 Mark Bibbins

Shoes of disappeared women / hovering in holes in walls
Poetry

Sea of Ice

No. 27 Callie Siskel

One might fail to notice / a hull amid the frozen waves.
Poetry

After Susan Rothenberg’s Untitled Drawing, No. 41, 1997

No. 27 Lily Brown

The horse gallops / fog under its chin
Poetry

Dream Song #322

No. 27 Daniel Borzutzky

The curtains were the color of red wine / The bedspread the color of sand
Portrait

Wrinkles

No. 27 Noa Zilberman

Poetry

On Silence

No. 27 Ilya Kaminsky

Such is the silence / of a woman who speaks against silence.
Fiction

Zuiver

No. 27 Eva Speer

History was mutable and distorted… Life had given him permission to play with it.
Fellow

Tipping

No. 27 LaToya Watkins

I always knew I had some of my momma in me. All that hell. All that hardness.
Fellow

Almost Human

No. 27 Deborah Taffa

They said never to trust an Indian who doesn’t want to go back to his own reservation.
Fellow

Diversions

No. 27 Bruna Dantas Lobato

There isn’t much to tell. Tell me anyway. Soothe this old heart.
Archive

Scrapbook Houses

No. 27 Annie Coggan

Of all Edith Wharton's characters, Lily Bart is most her author's architectural id.
Debate

On Plot

No. 27 Ryūnosuke Akutagawa & Jun’ichirō Tanizaki

I’ve lost my taste for anything that isn’t made up.
Fiction

Problems of an Empire

No. 27 Nanos Valaoritis

How important to designate even the most unimportant occurrence: What is nameless cannot exist.
Architecture

Akron Boys and Girls Club

No. 27 Samuel Mockbee

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