No. 30

The past will reveal to us the nature of the present. —Joan Perucho

Art

Marcelyn McNeil

No. 30 Marcelyn McNeil

Poetry

Time Keeping

No. 30 Matt Miller

Time was swallowing the children. / Time was an instant, a moment. / Time had all the cards.
Apocrypha

Mysteries of Yesteryear

No. 30 Joan Perucho

It actually wasn’t that hard to invoke spirits around a table. They were everywhere.
Fiction

Brindis at Covadonga

No. 30 Dagoberto Gilb

His brother was both more native and worldly, one whose life was as mysterious to him as it was obvious—as bright as yellow red and blue oil paint.
Fiction

Ghosts

No. 30 Sara Majka

I don’t blame you in a way. In a way? In all ways, in all ways I don’t blame you.
Poetry

Night Sky with Blue Silo and a Bonfire

No. 30 Idra Novey

We leaned into the weedfire / with all the wavering love we could endure receiving / from each other.
Poetry

Two Poems: Joanna Klink

No. 30 Joanna Klink

It is not / only land that seems to lean up / toward me, but last night’s thick rains / soaked below it and, outside this city, / the clay beneath fields.
Poetry

Duet

No. 30 Atsuro Riley

That sure as fangs a threat-pestered sheeny cottonmouth gon’ gape.
Poetry

The Empty Grave of Zsa Zsa Gabor

No. 30 Matthew Zapruder

I remember her / so long ago / appearing on certain / Friday nights / as I religiously wasted / my youth watching / others embark / the boat of love
Fiction

Team Player

No. 30 Sana Krasikov

No one wants to be beholden to the past.
Art

Matt Magee

No. 30 Matt Magee

Fiction

Honeysuckle

No. 30 Joshua Furst

I had come here for a reason, though I no longer remembered what this reason was.
Fiction

Six Months

No. 30 Maria Thomas

Mona looked left, out of the little window, to find the sun shining and plump rain falling in a manner that seemed cinematic and hopeful.
Poetry

Two Poems: Victoria Chang

No. 30 Victoria Chang

The curtain stays closed / until someone falls in love.
Poetry

Hieronymus Bosch Beach Blanket Bingo,  Summer 2020

No. 30 Sylvia Legris

The beach is a game board of umbrella & umbrella, torso & orifice, a vortex / of engorgement & vomit & vice versa & back.
Poetry

On Sunday I Water the Plants

No. 30 Rebecca Wolff

a week is measured in days and there are seven / just like the fingers on my hands without those ones I / forget, chopped off, bitten off, fell off from scurvy and flesh- / eating: intentionally brutal.
Poetry

Quail in the Bible

No. 30 ​Brian Blanchfield

How much was a cubit?/ What counts / as a murmur? A heel to knee, or knee to hip / distance; a walking complaint / not yet consensus.
Poetry

The White House

No. 30 Gillian Conoley

Few ever really got to live there. / It was smaller than anyone ever expected. / Its lights were dimmed, though guards remained
Art

Necessary Obstacles

No. 30 Ron Nagle

Fiction

Pocket Money

No. 30 Mi Jin Kim

Man Suk was a difficult person to be friends with. You couldn’t ask him for anything.
Fiction

Harvesters

No. 30 Uche Okonkwo

Harvesting the souls of men was full-time work—one could not serve God and mammon, didn’t she know?
Snapshot

The Secular and the Sacred

No. 30 Corita Kent

She is not frivolous, except to those who see life as a problem.
Fiction

Columbo and Sugar Okawa

No. 30 Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi

I’ll bet Napoleon never tasted anything this good. Not even on his wedding day.
Stories Out of School

The Metaphor Game

No. 30 John Francis Istel

He winks and snaps off a shot with his index finger, peering into my eyes with a weird pity.
Fellow

Mapping Why We Write

No. 30 Miguel Coronado

We can see a distance form within the word permission itself, an ocean or a sky; and to what end does the poet serve as an ambassador, crossing this space?
Fellow

The Language Map

No. 30 Angela María Spring

What is a country
Fellow

Two Poems: Huan He

No. 30 Huan He

The rice fields shine like rows of tinsel / the sun a neighborhood beggar in a lazy nap. / A boy, who will become the father, / drops a candy wrapper.
Fellow

Childhood Biracial

No. 30 Yasmine Ameli

I memorize her face for our resemblance: an arched brow, a dark ring around the pupil.
Fellow

Bury My Tongue

No. 30 Ann-Marie Blanchard

I’m remnants. Remains of a teen, troubled, remains of a child, sling necked but alive.
Fellow

Yugoslavia: The Encyclopedia of the Dead

No. 30 Maja Lukic

I confuse love with nostalgia. / I sit at a museum and watch/a slideshow of my vanished state.
Fellow

Nina and the Lime

No. 30 Rosemarie Ho

There are five petals to a cherry blossom, Nina chanted to herself. There is a kindness to cerulean.
Fellow

Dreamweaver

No. 30 Katie Foster

I’m not actively trying to disappear.
Fellow

Smoking Cigarettes in West Texas

No. 30 Crawford Hunt

I didn't like what he had to say, but I loved to hear him speak.
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