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Like peasants everywhere in the history / of the world ours can’t figure out why / they’re getting poorer. Their sons join / the army to get work being shot at.
By Jim HarrisonAugust 2020After barre, Mme. Francesca follows me to the locker room and tells me I’m officially going to the Cupids dance program this summer and I just can’t stand it.
By Alysandra DuttonJuly 2020Dear Ross: How can you miss on purpose? If I’m late getting back on defense, you’ll bounce the ball off the bottom of the rim and catch the “rebound” for a point. Alone under the basket. Missing.
Dear Noah: Bouncing the ball off the bottom of the rim is, as you say, a poorly missed shot, but also a perfectly missed one, because it results in a point in our game, which means it’s a way for me to stay on the court. If there were a way I could stay on the court without cheating — without those perfectly, beautifully missed shots — believe me, I would do it.
By Noah Davis, Ross GayJune 2020My friend possessed the inclination and the ability to turn her experience of the world into a language that insisted on delighting in itself.
By Chris BurskJune 2020MARK HOHN, a handwritten sign said. DEC. 19, 2013. 17 YRS. Here’s what struck me like a bus. It happened to be Dec. 19. He’d died exactly two years earlier. I sat on the ground before the cross and told myself to pay attention, that this was no coincidence.
By Maria BlackMarch 2020It begins like this: You drop your son off at kindergarten. His first day of school. You think that nothing in your life will be as big as this: the moment he drops your hand, he who has clung to you since birth, since that first breath of air, first scream, first frantic rooting for the breast.
By Louise A. BlumMarch 2020I’ve read about a new creature called a “coywolf” — the offspring of a coyote and a timber wolf. That must have been what I saw. Waiting for it to reappear gives me something to do.
By Devin MurphyJanuary 2020after my mother’s funeral standing in the receiving line just / below the altar rail shaking hands with people I hardly knew / when Kenny a face I hadn’t seen in twenty years appeared and / grabbed me and hugged me so damn hard the wind went out / of me
By Jim BishopNovember 2019Two alleys down from the bodega, where I found you that time. Under the defunct, overturned hot tub that once or twice served as your roof.
By Natalie KuszSeptember 2019Under the Milky Way, after the fireworks, out of the closet
By Our ReadersJune 2019Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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