Spring 2017
Lithium // Unobtainium
// Unobtainium Science fiction always begins after an unethical decision. For the greater good, greater bad, greater neutrality of some alien race who may or
Letter From One Who Knows
He longed to be surprising,
egged on by mornings dulled
by hangovers and vomit.
His hands were never clean
when he came home from the site.
This Could Have Happened to You
We were outside an antiques and oddities shop, somewhere in New Hampshire, when I said, Look, it’s not my fault, it never was my fault
How it Goes
It would be nice, all these years later, for her to write down how it got to this point. But on her page, there are
This is Not Your Country
In Leila’s Balkan country most people cowered in permanent unease. Anxious about the propuh, an ill-meaning air draft apparently possessed of ambiguously mystical but lethal
Dumb Blonde
“A blonde walks into a library—” The man starts then stops. He is a man with a big belly in a dark, baggy sweatsuit,
At the Seams
To see more of Alattar’s work, visit her website Artist Statement The search for balance is fundamental in my work. Each piece starts
The Contact Imperative
She emerges wearing a welder’s mask (I try not to stare) because the blood will splatter under her electric drill—a Black & Decker used to
4 Poems
The kind of thing I see in movies/memories when there are dark basements involved. He sat on the small of her back, cupped her chin
Burn
for Reshma Qureshi Mustard flowers stipple the olive and emerald fields as dusty buffalos wallow in shrinking mud pools. Women wash pink dupattas and
My Dearest of Selves, Tire of Thine Eyes & People in the Morning,
Death is here, and you plant tree pods for no greenness in a keening beach bleached
3 Poems
Some Guidelines for Women After Tomas and Pilar Andres Below are some don’ts for women to avoid getting into “trouble”*: A woman should
When My Mother Was a Girl in Montana
Cabin, barn red and hunkered into hillside, smells like the earth. Moss grows between the planks all down the hallway.
Meow Meow
stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance The pitter-patter woke Sheila the first night. A rush of footsteps tumbled through her