logo image a digital codex of contemporary pan-american writing

Poesía

On Martin Luther King Day, Four Days Before the Inauguration

On Martin Luther King Day, Four Days Before the Inauguration

by Elizabeth Jacobson In New Mexico, northern saw-whets are not a common sight, but just now, I see one, huddled in sleep, tucked close to the trunk on a snowy pinon bough. It startles awake as I cross the yard to the compost heap, blinks its golden cat eyes three times, and doesn’t fly away. […]


Smash Shop

Smash Shop

by Elizabeth Jacobson From the bench above the pond I watch two ducks make dark channels in the water as they feed, pathways through a mosaic of cracked green ice. Behind me the rocks, strata of red igneous beneath ochre sandstone, are an unconformity —a geologic span— characterized by an immense amount of nothing between […]


Ego Sum

Ego Sum

by Ernesto Noboa Y Caamaño Translated by Jonathan Simkins Amo todo lo extraño, amo todo lo exótico, lo equívoco y morboso, lo falso y lo anormal: tan sólo calmar pueden mis nervios de neurótico la ampolla de morfina y el frasco de cloral. Amo las cosas mustias, aquel tinte clorótico de hampones y rameras, pasto […]


Emocion Vesperal

Emocion Vesperal

by Ernesto Noboa Y Caamaño Translated by Jonathan Simkins Hay tardes en las que uno desearía embarcarse y partir sin rumbo cierto, y, silenciosamente, de algún puerto, irse alejando mientras muere el día; Emprender una larga travesía y perderse después en un desierto y misterioso mar, no descubierto por ningún navegante todavía. Aunque uno sepa […]


Nostalgia

Nostalgia

By Ernesto Noboa y Caamaño Translated by Jonathan Simkins Ante la ciudad dormida bajo la luna sedeña, mi pobre alma dolorida olvida y sueña. Un astro me está llamando con su trémula mirada, y el alma está contemplando extasiada y sollozando su llamada. Y sueña ante los reflejos del rubio astro vagabundo: ¡partir al fin! […]


Hourglass: a translation of Jorge Luis Borges’ “El reloj de arena”

Hourglass: a translation of Jorge Luis Borges’ “El reloj de arena”

translation by Natalia Sucher It fits that time is measured with the stark Shadow a column in summer Casts or with the water of that river In which Heraclitus saw our madness, Since time and destiny Resemble each other: the imponderable Daytime shadow and the irrevocable course Of the water that follows its way. It […]


Amazing Microcosm

Amazing Microcosm

by Sergio Ortiz Eloy put a few seeds in my hand. Thirty trees tomorrow, a forest fifty years later, birds find the South in those trees, wolves discover shelter. And ants grow like a body between blind, sleepy roots. At some point a house and another house built by those woods and winter lowered inside […]


Among the Natives (ii)

Among the Natives (ii)

by Marc Vincenz Observe, observe the doctor twisting in her smattering of sunlight, the pensive hammering of her elusive tender fingers, observe too the rosette of her birthmark flowering for bees and glorious butterflies, for those pollinators poised beneath her delicate earlobe —and she, within the swirling-whir of insect-laden night, listening for the scrape and […]


Expedition to the End of the Smallest Common Denominator

Expedition to the End of the Smallest Common Denominator

By Marc Vincenz Is this a dog heaven? or a heaven dogged? Is this the doggerel of a man or a bird? In the sweet crust of time, no haven bent on the edge of self-discovery, of a wanting- to-become, a thick slice of homemade pie still steaming on the window ledge of childhood— hurtling […]


Lunar Effect

Lunar Effect

by Marc Vincenz (I am) shriveled up into such a narrow compass as is filled by my own bodily sensations… —Galileo The middle shifted— you could barely see it for all the crowd and yet how great their sublime force of attraction of pure light they flowered in his palm and wobbled as he danced […]


Vernal

Vernal

by Ari Wolff The bones were so severed I forgot who I was beneath them or how I had come to live such in a vespertine city. I walked the streets with the same uncertainty my grandmother had when she held a smartphone for the first time. Under the gaze of new blue LED streetlights […]


Lucidity

Lucidity

by Marina Carreira Remember how you told me I was home to more than the way a sunflower opens in the morning: all head, glorious gold. It still hurts after all this time, but not because you were my other half (I am not split; perhaps, this is why I could never attach) but because […]


Pink & Blue Fado

Pink & Blue Fado

by Marina Carreira The heavens—spectacular that Thursday evening. We walked, my hand in yours up the hillside, declaring the pink in the sky (me), and you (the blue). We found this horizon playful, the blue on top of the pink, like us, like our teenage lovemaking. The trees asleep, their arms grazing the leave-strewn ground, […]


Coco Fusco says, “dying is a woman’s last choice”

Coco Fusco says, “dying is a woman’s last choice”

by Asdrubal Quintero 1. Coco Fusco says, “dying is a woman’s last choice” so she returned home. She sees her grandmother’s corpse in Spain propped on dollar-store flowers, wrapped by tea candles– skin like chicharrones. 2. My mother slips into the muddy river, cuts the bottom of her foot on a buried seashell rudder, gropes […]


The Backsliders

The Backsliders

by Jenny Irizary Peaked tower no bell surrounded by shutters hand-painted cross look of a neon sign blinking dusk’s last spoiled strawberry soft black-eyed bless youa for sending the photos that’s the church (my mother’s church) I’d like to go back some time hear the band like it was 1959 the backsliders one guy claimed […]


Horizons

Horizons

by Madeleine Beckman A wreath of skulls         followed her around a halo of death         multitudes of grief a gift     to remember not to forget the dodged bullets bits of good fortune jewels of days        dusks dawns,    horizons still to kiss.


Celebrate France

Celebrate France

by Madeleine Beckman Read French books – Baudelaire, Dumas, Balzac, Flaubert… View French painting – Degas, Cezanne, Manet… Discuss French philosophy – Descartes, Voltaire, Camus, Rousseau… Watch French movies – Cocteau, Godard, Truffaut, Varda… Take a photograph (kudos to Niépce). Take a ride in a hot air balloon (de Rozier). Cook – Pot-­au-­Feu, Cassoulet, Tarte […]


Stewards

Stewards

by Mercedes Lawry I see absence in the scalded sky and in the parched dirt, in arroyos and permafrost, in bleached coral, deltas bronze with oil, in the eyes of others, in the shallows of intent. In spoiled rivers, I wade among dead fish, the sun still golden, golden, and I see absence beyond the […]


Non Omnis Moriar

Non Omnis Moriar

by Chyna Parker A field of almond trees like dendrites reaching towards their cessation balancing in the wind between grave site grape vines and wood chips. Dwarfed lakes snake between hills and valleys to die, river beds bake and cook under the arid sun and the cattle with their dirt–brown tillage sold to the east […]


Consolation

Consolation

by Jack Freeman There is a spot that I am sure of, incredibly, in this world, where we will never arrive. -César Vallejo, “Trilce” That spot is here, in sight of the Spanish as they sought Osage gold. Without an astrolabe or sand glass, landed meridian was a dotted line which succumbed to river bends— […]


Ruminations on CK

Ruminations on CK

by Jack Freeman for Tyler I. I bought the book used from a shop downtown in February when we had class and read gibberish from some slim volume that told us how to be a poet. The book I bought was secret out of false necessity. Its lines grew mile-wide and played like a twelve-string […]


My Lineage Is Pure, As Delicate as Quebracho Wood

My Lineage Is Pure, As Delicate as Quebracho Wood

by Alejandra Castillo I come from a long line of cheap lipstick smeared over cantina walls. When the neighbors aren’t pointing and whispering “puta” they are whispering “bruja” or “bitch.” When the neighbors aren’t pointing and whispering “puta” surely my mother is. Binding my sexuality in unshaven legs, a unibrow, sweat suits, bowl haircuts. But […]


Jane Says

Jane Says

by Winsome Charter Jane says she’s leaving Sergio in Boston and starting a new life in Providence. Jane says Lacan is right: We’re doomed to the arc of romantic love–the intense role-playing at the outset, the wonder at discovering our soul mate, followed by bitter disappointment. Jane says she’s chronic. Jane says she loves the […]


Upon the Discovery of the Existence of Another Golden Calf

Upon the Discovery of the Existence of Another Golden Calf

by Holly Day This is how God must have felt looking down at His people dancing around the golden calf when they thought His back was turned, surreptitiously kissing fist-sized idols shoved deep in their pockets when they thought He wasn’t looking whispering heresy in one anothers ears lies about other true gods that were […]