Poetry by EJ Koh
Issue 3 / Poetry

Poetry by EJ Koh

A man who drinks between my long white columns/

tastes history: the first time I/ touched my breasts,/

then below, when I changed into an/ ocean from a dam—/

my belly a sculptor of people, fed by/ the milk-springs/

of my mountains. Continue reading

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Nonfiction by Isaiah Zeke Swango
Issue 3 / Nonfiction

Nonfiction by Isaiah Zeke Swango

He always insisted that barbeque was meant to be eaten with one’s hands—anything more and you were deemed a sham, just another half-assed pretender at life. Sweet Baby Ray’s served as blood while I was taught to pop bones from sockets, and like a fledgling under the wing of a hawk, I tore at things once living beneath my father’s cool shadow. Continue reading