essays | fiction | poetry | photography | art
I swam in the Gulf of Thailand with you.
I held you, small as a kumquat, in my own dark, small sea.
I often think of telling you
There is something wrong with time here.
I’m not sure whether I age faster or, quite the contrary –
Once we’re introduced again, I’ll be annoying in my youth.
She’s pulling up weeds from the flowerbed
And then starts feeling one tug back,
Wrapping her water grip and dragging her
Through the claggy earth.
This rockmelon is bloated with guilt
Sweet, near-rancid, on the knife’s edge of festering
Press down and it will oblige
Glossy lips, upturned in a cheesy grin. This is what I see when I think about the morning I left my country. The lips of a Ronald McDonald statue, painted red to match its garish hair and its clown’s outfit. Broad lips stretched into a smile that seemed much too bright under soulless eyes. I…
My earliest memories of goulash are full of warm, satisfying sensations—soft, chewy egg noodles draped in thick brown gravy and big chunks of beef adorned with a few key ingredients like green pepper, onion, and paprika.
In our conversation we discuss how Bex began her photographic journey and the point of photography, the ways in which food can become subversive and suggestive, and the My Chemical Romance reunion.
An exploration of feminist indulgence, excess, and gratification via the colour red in Věra Chytilová’s Czech New Wave masterpiece Daisies (1966).
I had
one chance out of zero,
but spent a youth chasing
what I am still not.
Appel turns his professional interest in the workings of the human mind to a narrative exploration of the reasons we tell lies.
points for you if you are boss of the building, every lock
warm at your fingertips, every door’s soft click
yours as it shuts, every window with your face
reflected in it.
Above the house a low sun like a wrecking ball,
the world at the horizon splintered like a Rothko
Porridge 