No. 30

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

Print $15
Sold Out
Print + Digital $21
Sold Out


Marcelyn McNeil

No. 30 Marcelyn McNeil


Time Keeping

No. 30 Matt Miller

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

Mysteries of Yesteryear

No. 30 Joan Perucho

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

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.


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.

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.

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.


No. 30 Atsuro Riley

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

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

Team Player

No. 30 Sana Krasikov

No one wants to be beholden to the past.

Matt Magee

No. 30 Matt Magee



No. 30 Joshua Furst

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

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.

Two Poems: Victoria Chang

No. 30 Victoria Chang

The curtain stays closed / until someone falls in love.

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.

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.

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.

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

Necessary Obstacles

No. 30 Ron Nagle


Pocket Money

No. 30 Mi Jin Kim

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


No. 30 Uche Okonkwo

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

The Secular and the Sacred

No. 30 Corita Kent

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

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.

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?

The Language Map

No. 30 Angela María Spring

What is a country

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.

Childhood Biracial

No. 30 Yasmine Ameli

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

Bury My Tongue

No. 30 Ann-Marie Blanchard

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

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.

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.


No. 30 Katie Foster

I’m not actively trying to disappear.

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.
Order A Public Space

Get A Public Space as you like it: the print magazine, the digital version, or a print and digital bundle. The best value? Subscribe to A Public Space and receive three new issues of the magazine as well as exclusive access to the online archive.

Print $15
Sold Out
Print + Digital $21
Sold Out

A Public Space
149 E 23rd St #B
New York, NY 10010

Privacy Policy

General Information
Subscription Help