POETRY

CONFESSION

By AMEEN ANIMASHAUN

Spring is the loneliest time, but the jacarandas / keep coming and coming as if deaf to expectations.

MICRO

Ode to back-in parking

By RHIENNA RENéE GUEDRY

—preparedness is my kink too

BACK OF THE ENVELOPE

From the Archives: Oxytocin

By ASHWINI BHASI

Content Warning: Abuse, Sexual Assault.

WIT TEA

From the Archives: My Therapist’s Taste in Home Décor Isn’t the Only Reason Why I’m Leaving Her

By STEPHEN WACK

“Uh... so is that an antique-patina steamer chest being used as an end table, or is something wrong with my live feed?”

RECENTLY PUBLISHED

26 Jan 2026

MICRO

black and white photo pf hands touching tattooed skin

From the Archives: Touch

By SAM SAX

Lord—is self harm ever devotional or
Is it always a form of possession?

21 Jan 2026

WIT TEA

black laptop computer turned on on bed to "Ghost in the Shell" on Netflix

The Poem You’ve Been Waiting For

By JAY DéLISE

Would and should have come…

20 Jan 2026

TRANSLATION

Close-up shot of a crocodile's eye, which is green with yellow flecks with a slit pupil.

Buayahon

By HANNAH A. LECEñA

Translated from Filipino and Cebuano by Bernard Kean Capinpin

16 Jan 2026

Q&A

A collage of the author next to the cover of her book.

Q&A with Mahreen Sohail, author of Small Scale Sinners

By GAURI AWASTHI

How do you keep some of yourself for yourself and what is lost in the process? I’ve always been interested in that question and tried to write into it while I was putting this collection together.

15 Jan 2026

INSIGHT

The eyes and head of Michelangelo's statue of David

Jonathan

By ERICA PETERSON

Will someone someday read this and know she was beautiful and good and kind?

14 Jan 2026

POETRY

Image shows a lush jungle of dark green trees, vines, shrubs and bamboo. A woman wearing an off-the-shoulder black dress and with black hair tied into a bun, carrying a leather bag strapped around her back and with bare feet, stands off to the right side of the image. The woman is turned away from the camera and is taking a careful step forward, her arms slightly held out from her body, towards a stump and a break in the foliage which may be a riverbank. The lighting is dim and moody, with the plants appearing slightly bluish in hue from the darkness. The woman's head and neck and the leaves of the plants are gently illuminated by a soft white glow from above.

“American Sonnet Upon Finding an Old Report Card” and “American Sonnet Whenever [Gaza/Afghanistan/Vietnam/etc.] Gets Called a Land of Bombs”

By MAI-LINH HONG

My toenails churned the dirt, searching for Earth’s weak spots: / places to root.

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