Richard Chiem has a new story at 3:AM Magazine called “Sky Up.” So stoked to see so much of Richard’s good work popping up at cool places.
Some parties are forgettable, Alyssa says, how many parties have we had this week. She turns on the bathroom faucet but does not wash her hands or look down, staring at herself casually in the mirror, listening to the water. Her big lips crack as they smile. If you’ve been through hell, keep going, she says. Alyssa feels the edge of the sharp blade of her pocket knife with her thumb, and winces just before it breaks the skin, before she hears a knock on the door. She walks outside still holding the knife. She walks a straight line in one direction, because direction is consoling, softening her focus, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her other hand before descending downstairs. The person in the front of the line, waiting for the bathroom, a girl wearing a bikini, says, Winston Churchill. The girl in a bikini says, That girl walking away holding the knife is quoting Winston Churchill.
from MY BROTHER THE ASTRONAUT
my brother is not an astronaut
though I have often described him as such
he once told me that in space one does not think of God
one feels nothing
he says this and his voice interrupts the air
and I say where did all that air go when your voice moved it
and he’d say stop thinking only of yourself
you never began
you just became aware that you’re here
and you always have been
when a space shuttle leaves the atmosphere
the atmosphere becomes smaller
it’s like if all life was extracted from the ocean
and the water level got lower and we found Atlantis
we’d remember that Atlantis was just a colony of tropical fish
and now they have been lifted away from us
A slice of it:
I am a writer and poet, one, bear with me here, of the “major” writers of the late 20th century, though just typing that felt desperate. I received a B.A. in English at Humboldt State University, then went on to attend the esteemed Iowa Writers’ Workshop, thus launching my career. I also like to drink.
What I’m doing with my life
Working on some short stories but honestly not that into it, which may be why I’m entertaining the prospect of dating again.
Jason Bredle’s new book Carnival is from the University of Akron Press, and here is the sweet trailer for it. Check it out!
The new installment of the PEN Poetry Series, selected by Ben Mirov, features Jason Bredle’s poem “Copenhagen Airport.” Check it out!
In the new issue of Dinosaur Bees, Evelyn Hampton rolls out three poems. Let them splish-splash in your Saturday!
From “Start With Steak:”
What if you were in court arguing a case and you realized—
I’m not going to use doors anymore.
All your life you’ve been perfecting a technique of preparing oatmeal and finally
it’s your birthday
and you’re a train.
A story from the fabulous Evelyn Hampton in the new issue of The Collagist. Here’s the start:
“Around Choo and Cream, or somewhere between their bodies, hung a nearly transparent child who clapped its hands not out of glee or approval, but because of the awkward way its body was hanging, its hands dangling and getting caught sometimes on various cavities of the gaping boots of Choo and Cream.”
The new issue of jubilat is out in print and features a poem from Jordan Stempleman, available on their website as a preview. It starts a little something like this:
It looks like I’ve done something terrible,
unforgivable, but all I’ve done is butchered
a pomegranate while listening to cartoons.
Who really gives a shit about fruit and its
triumphant preciousness, its leaking, its
lies about what I am and what I have done?