Issue 27 | Fall 2022
April I
Réka Nyitrai
It seems that the bull-headed man managed to shoot my bird. I didn’t hear the gunshot but I felt the bird’s fall. It seems that I’m the kind of person who doesn’t learn from their mistakes. Again, I allowed hope to flog me and now, even the dirt dumped on my grave hurts. It is the April wind that borrowed my voice and now it criticises my poems.
About the Author
Réka Nyitrai is a spell, a sparrow, a lioness’s tongue—a bird nest in a pool of dusk. She is the recipient of a Touchstone Distinguished Books Award for 2020 for her debut haiku volume While Dreaming Your Dreams (Valencia Spain: Mono Ya Mono Books, 2020).
Prose
Nonie in Excelsis (Excerpt from About Ed) Robert Glück
Dirk Julia Kohli, translated by Rob Myatt
Panthera onca Jasleena Grewal
The Border Solomon Samson
Tikibik Dominic Blewett
Mistake or Accident Laurie Stone
Excerpt from Mice 1961 Stacey Levine
The Cathedral of Desire Nina Schuyler
The Gorge James Warner
In This Case, He Killed an Innocent Person Carla Bessa, translated by Elton Uliana
A Chinese Temple in California Alvin Lu
Poetry
you have become an archive. Lorelei Bacht
thunderclouds
On the Things I Did at the End of the World Beatriz Rocha, translated by Grant Schutzman
In this movie David C. Hall
Spot Rolla Barraq, translated by Muntather Alsawad and Jeffrey Clapp
Let There Exist For Us… Eva-Maria Sher
That I Would Cameron Morse
Surf
Cover Art
Image 001 Richard Hanus