March 2020
Crüe’s Cover
Evan calls them “bitchin’,” betraying his California roots and never-ending supply of boyishness. I embrace that Gen-X-y “meh”
Read MoreNow Pepe was going to be president…
The recent chaos at the Iowa Democratic caucus was exacerbated by eager Anons responding to a 4chan call to “clog the phone lines”...
Read MoreAmit Majmudar on Anthony Madrid
Not all limericks are not-quite-nonsense, but the most limerickish ones are. As Anthony Madrid, author of a new collection of limericks illustrated by Mark Fletcher, says in a short essay...
Read MoreMumbai Diary by Medha Singh
It is November. I'm on a train through India. North to South. Delhi to Mumbai. 26 hours. I'm with a friend, Esther. She is falling in love.
Read MoreChris Moffat on the Lahore Biennale
Biennales are experiments with proximity. They reconfigure spaces with art, sound or bodies, temporarily disrupting the usual rhythms of their host environments. In Lahore...
Read MoreElias Tezapsidis: Return
The day that I returned to Greece after a decade in the US marked a grand failure, at least in my head. If I had written this three years ago
Read MoreThe Poetry of the Present
It seems when we hear a skylark singing as if sound were running forward into the future, running so fast and utterly without consideration...
Read MoreThe tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
Read MoreThe thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
Read MoreI spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
Read MoreThe tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
Read MoreThe thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
Read MoreI spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
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