Current Issue

The Amon Liner Poetry Award ON SEEING A BEE DRINK HIS NECTAR

Here I sit almost 25 years old,
never knowing how a bee drinks
its nectar til today, having followed one
from geranium petal to geranium petal…

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NEW WORK IN NEW CHINA

Michael X. Wang

Young Huli has pushed back the remnants of the Communist Party to Inner Mongolia. His tanks and yellow-shirted infantry have crushed the guerrillas that controlled the provinces below the Yangtze River and the remaining People’s Liberation Army along the Yellow River. He has declared himself emperor.

A SORT OF ART

Dan Albergotti

They made a sort of music with their feet,
a seesaw slapping as they hit the ground
in time with undead, resurrected years—
the monochrome past of sepia suffering.

“A no-frills magazine, plain and dignified”

—Robert Watson

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The Robert Watson Literary Prize Story THE CHAIR KICKERS’ TALE

Sarah Heying

There was once a bored and powerful king who proclaimed that any man who could tell a story without an end would be granted riches and glory. For weeks, no one dared attempt the task, but then a farm boy climbed the steps to the palace. He was introduced to the king, and right away he started into the story: “A farmer had a stockpile of corn…”

The Robert Watson Literary Prize Poem MISS SAHAR LISTENS TO FAIRUZ SING “THE BEES’ PATH”

Lena Khalaf Tuffaha

If you’re going to go,
if you’re going to scorch this heart
and leave a desert in your absence,
tell me now and I’ll follow the bees.