amanda saunders
Unclaimed My father and I stand on either side of the splintering kitchen table, hurling words like missiles, my grandmother, the no man’s land between us. I picture her, nine […]
Author Archives: Jess Rizkallah
sakina abidi
if, if, if — if i could meet you, small brown boy, i’d take your shoulders and shake them, ask you who taught you that the way i speak is […]
tatiana johnson
mothership when your mother tells you she has a mental health […]
jeff taylor
Other People’s Dishes My Wife and I had sex on the commuter rail months before our first date. Both Bill Murray and my dog have stories where they wash other […]
sergio a. ortiz
Wetback of eternity I am undocumented worker of eternity, illegal crossing the border of a dream. My passport of existence expired. Without proper documentation […]
nathan comstock
Over Breakfast, My Mother Comes Out to Me As a Shapeshifter It is my first week home from college and my mother has taken me out to our favorite breakfast […]
diannely antigua
john pinkham
At Home Soil Tests and Self Loathing My neighbor Maria waters her potted plants at five in the morning she grows flowers so big their egos look up at the […]
linette reeman
DIFFERENT MASSACRES my college history class assigns a primary source with the word “transvestite” in the title. after a semester of genocides, this seems easy. my classmates assume that massacres […]
angelica maria
cinco de mayo For Cinco De Mayo my friend Hayley wears my grandmother’s skin. Cackles like a hyena when she asks if I like her costume, And I mean like […]
Maps For Teeth 