Issue 113: 25 June 2020

/Issue 113: 25 June 2020

Introducing a New Writers Resist Editor

By | 2020-06-22T14:27:21-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , |

We're delighted to announce a new addition to our editorial team, Debbie Hall, who'll be joining Ying Wu in reviewing poetry submissions. Debbie is a psychologist and writer whose poetry has appeared in a number of literary journals and anthologies, including the San Diego Poetry Annual, Serving House Journal, Sixfold, Poets Reading the News, Poetry24, Bird’s Thumb, Califragile, [...]

Oh, brother, where art thou?

By | 2020-06-22T15:01:34-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , , |

By Kathleen Hellen “You never really get the smell of burning flesh out of your nose entirely.” – J.D. Salinger I’d thought that you’d do better than a sidekick, thought that you’d articulate—knowing, as you must, about the stink they left behind, the helicopters lifting from the ruins in Saigon. Of course, I smelled it as [...]

Man with a Knife

By | 2020-06-25T07:25:37-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , , , , , , |

By Tara Stillions Whitehead   ENTER death as sound blackening an already shadowy scene—as a long, hard lament from the HORN of the failed getaway car. Then, as a YOUNG WOMAN. Everything is lost; everyone has lost. At this distance, death is an exquisite execution of convention. A triumph of method acting. Near-perfect cinema. It will [...]

Late Afternoon in the Church of Our Lady of Guadalupe

By | 2020-06-22T17:37:45-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , |

By Joe Milosch   Sitting in the barrio church, I look at the altar window. It is a pale October evening, but now its rainbow-colored shore glows in the stained-glass. Standing mast-like in a boat, Christ looks toward land as he turns red at sunset. He doesn’t look like a carpenter’s son any more than the [...]

Sonnet: Australia in 2020

By | 2020-06-22T17:26:46-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , , |

By Chris Collins ‘graves from which a glorious Phantom may Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day’                      – P. B. Shelley, England in 1819   An orange light, pale, sickly, dying Chokes the sky, while it anaesthetises. Infected air, poisoned, thick and blinding, But smoke can’t shroud [...]

Fire Storm: Poem Beginning with a Line from Jane Kenyon

By | 2020-06-22T17:34:21-07:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , , |

By Lynn Wagner   Into light all things must fall, glad at last to have fallen while the crown fires burn and branches break, charred and brittled to the tall trees’ bones. Fall down from the sky fantails, so stumble purple swamphen along the shore. And day is night and ash is all while pyrocumulonimbus counterclockwise [...]

Americans are rushing around stocking up on toilet paper

By | 2020-11-06T16:09:26-08:00 June 25th, 2020|Categories: Issue 113: 25 June 2020|Tags: , , , , , , , |

By Marcy Rae Henry   In Himalayan India we used leaves buckets of water and our hands   Best-selling tampons have applicators because Americans are afraid to touch themselves   In Himalayan India we didn’t have tampons We used rags and pads but didn’t touch each other’s hands to say hello   When wiping with leaves [...]