Poetry

Qi Xi

you should fly fragile bones and your heart beat beat beat your gilded cage cannot hold you the stars call your name and the nebulas are your skies the Pleiades your home somewhere, they meet, hand in hand, the bridge of your kin a red wedding string joining generation after generation you should fly fragile […]

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Seven Shoes

The witch said, “I will give you what you want. All you have to do is wear through seven pairs of shoes.” “Which shoes?” she asked. “Oh, any. But the number is important.” The first pair, she was wearing that day in the woods: red Keds. In them, she would ride her bike down the […]

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Dancing Princesses

It looks like a door, but it isn’t. It just wears the shape of it, like a wolf greasing itself in sheep fat. Here is what it isn’t—an ending or beginning, a snail of a fist or a palm-up platform waiting for a virgin’s deer-quick heart, a spindle upon which to spin out the yarn […]

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Twenty Seventy-One

Eric Blair coughed out his last red breath in 1950, but George Orwell goes stumbling on through the nightlands of America, a dead man’s pub crawl trying to drown the rhythm of a stamping boot and the claque’s counterpoint applause in microbrewery bitters and too much Bud. The White House says the truth is one […]

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The Axolotl Inquest

for Rachelle Wright No one asked the axolotl “Would you like to leave the warm peridot waters of Lake Xochimilco? Would you trade the fertile chinampas for an aquarium and floodlight scrutiny in our research labs?” Maybe if we’d asked the axolotl he’d have said, “¡Órale!” Morphing back to doggish deity Xolotl he might have […]

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time, and time again

long before our time: we were forbidden gentlemen, sneaking held hands under coats and hiding love’s passwords in simple sentences. my heart is a hummingbird and your lips are sweet as a hibiscus— tuesday: I wear the only suit I have, you bought it for me because my own was loose and moth-bit. the morning’s […]

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