By Xin Qiji
Translated By Shangyang Fang
to the tune “he xin lang: toasting the bridegroom”Now that I am old and those who crossed the mountains…
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- By Kate PartridgeI don’t want to get emails from
the wolf people anymore, but
they know where I am—have known
precisely… - By Daniel HalpernThe redolence of rose and new road.
The attar of grass, recently cut.
The fish-whiff of anchovy.
The spinning… - By John MulcareWe inhaled slag wool in the throat
of a Tennessee summer, installing cheap
can lights, like capping off… - By Omotara JamesWhen we meet at the holiday table, we take turns
and great pains not to remind each other
of our mutual… - By Heidi WilliamsonYou’re fifteen and nowhere in a town on the edge of pitiful lands stripped of fruit. The burger van’…
- By Omotara JamesWhen Sarah Vaughan pipes from the great American songbook,
I forget time is dragging my body from one… - By Zhang Xian相离徒有相逢梦。门外马蹄尘已动。
怨歌留待醉时听，远⽬不堪空际送。
今宵风⽉知谁共。声咽琵琶槽上凤。
⼈⽣⽆物⽐多情，江⽔不深⼭不重。 - By Zhang XianTranslated By Shangyang Fangto the tune “mu lan hua: magnolia”
After tonight, what’s left of you is you
moving into my dream. Outside… - By Xin Qiji甚矣吾衰矣。
怅平⽣、交游零落，只今余⼏！
⽩发空垂三千丈，⼀笑⼈间万事。
问何物、能令公喜？
我见青⼭多妩媚，料青⼭见我应如是。
情与貌，略相似。
⼀尊搔⾸东窗⾥。
想渊明、《停云》诗就，此时风味。
江左沉酣求名者… - By Hermelinda Hernandez Monjaras
- By Lauren RussellHammock dumping
you onto bruised
grasses, frayed
thoughts droop
sideways, hammering
morning. Slipper-
footed… - By Mitchell GlazierStiletto melon collies, a tinsel mystic streaks our homeplace.
Lantern flies triple from the sleeping… - By Mitchell GlazierQueenly swans nudge eternity figs
Yellow rose fire
Lit by a ghost breath
I’ve eaten you someplace before… - By Brittany PerhamThe doctor tells her what she can’t eat
no grains no nuts no beans no sugar a tomato is OK
but no skins… - By Brittany PerhamWe take the N out to the turnaround.
The only thing to come now is the sea.
The ice plants make the pink… - By Brittany Perhamsilicon valley
The neural nets have been connected.
The director takes the stand:
Accolades should … - By Olga LivshinDecember. In Odesa,
power stations, shelled.
Your father’s friend
shivers in his apartment
crammed with … - By Paul TranMixed greens. Purple onions. Banana
Peppers. Tomatoes. Avocados. Mayonnaise. Pepper. Sourdough.
A stranger… - By Rowan Wilde RiggsA ball of yarn is attempting to unravel my wits.
It rolls over vistas that trample our view of each …