weekend-readsA Brief History of Hungarian Food

Vivian Wagner

In the Nagycsarnok, or Central Market, in Pest, vendors sell mounds of plump cherries and apricots, asparagus and lettuce. Stacked jars of pinewood, aster, and milkweed honey. Small plastic bags…

weekend-readsYet Not Consumed

Mary Szybist

But give me the frost of your name in my mouth, give me spiny fruits and scaly husks — give me breath to say aloud to the breathless clouds your…

weekend-readsDoppelgangers

Anney E. J. Ryan

I’m standing in line for the bathroom at the Silhouette Cocktail Lounge. After about five minutes, the guy standing behind me taps my shoulder. I look him over. He’s stocky,…

Zozo-ji

Dana Levin

Buddhist temple, Tokyo             One cry from a lone bird over a misted river is the expression of grief,             in Japanese. Let women do what they need.             And afterward knit a…

weekend-readsCatskill Mountain House (1824-1962)

Paula Bohince

In this rich and privileged        light, in true American light, where hung        chandeliers, diamond dew- drop earrings, stoles        of perfume plundered from the sex        of animals, one antique urge        dovetails…

Farewell

Alexei Bayer

“I like Los Angeles or New York City,” said Misha. “Chicago, if worst came to worst.” “Oh, is it so?” reacted Sergei Antonovich swiftly. “You do, don’t you? Well then,…

Beautiful War

Maggie Anderson

March-September 2003 Photographs     painted, cropped, rearranged           into smoke     soldier     tank     desert sky red on red horizon line of dreamed landscape so that it does not look like war— wounded Marines, no blood—                                    no detonations,…

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