
The Peasantry
By Weijia Pan
“I could read history from the back of your reddened skull. / You could read me directly, reflected in the eyes of passers-by.”
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By Weijia Pan
“I could read history from the back of your reddened skull. / You could read me directly, reflected in the eyes of passers-by.”
“My body reached its logical conclusion, red blood / over white feathers.”
“a tabernacle, where memories (a) constellate, (b) dispel, tweeting for (a) healings, (b) witherings from their gods—”
By G.R. Kramer
“Have I not seen how its star fire / lavishes itself into every corner, peers / into the guiltiest chamber of our hearts?”
“The couple looks on, a pair of eyes / melting like discarded chocolate, // furtive.”
By Jane Hahn
“A round-horned shadow chewing on trash by the side of the road, white flank torched by passing headlights—sears a negative onto your retinas. The ram eats everything.”
“Something low and feathery // would rise from his throat as / if he had choked on a bird and that bird”
“to redeem our tarnished souls, updating instantly, adapting in this age / of gratification with a rattle like the sages rolling in their / graves,”
“Praise God for steam, its generosity / and blur, for the dark nest, / of hair pulped on the shower wall.”