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ISSUE 13: CONTRIBUTORS

Priya Sarukkai Chabria, Theodore Singer, Vanessa Fogg, H. Pueyo, Donna J. W. Munro, Hannah Frankel, Yilin Wang, Lynne Sargent, Mack W. Mani, Adele Gardner, Mary Soon Lee, Mari Ness, Ishita Singh, Gautam Bhatia, Chaitanya Murali, D. P. Singh, Tarun K. Saint, Rajat Chaudhuri and Jvalant Nalin Sampat

ART by John Glover    

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B. Clifford: An Elegy

Red earth and yellow sun and blood pouring out my mouth. Crisp oceans and pale eyes and a calligraphed smile on your lips. There was poison in your bones even then wiring fraying inside the honeycomb labyrinth, a minotaur stalking your blueing arteries. I don't know...

Brendan McBreen: where are you, / Nessie?

where are you, Nessie Nessie? submerged in endless doubt traveling the Paleolithic and and back between camera clicks just missed? are you in cardboard model heaven? forward looking sonared to distraction tired of the limelight tired of doubters and fakers the...

Ken Poyner: Puppy Love

I will never meet Molly: Her slender three-sixty rotating arms, Her arch-sway thundering legs, her Incline balance to forty-five degrees. I will never sit across from her Trying half the night to figure The loop modulus in her blink pattern, The keywords that elicit a...

Dreams & Delusions

"Literature can train, and exercise, our ability to weep for those who are not us or ours." — Susan Sontag Eight years ago, I was super excited about Obama’s election. I was a twenty-something copyeditor then, working for an American newspaper. Over the years,...

Ajapa Sharma – Calcutta: An Ode to an Unborn Life

Damp vapor engulfs my existence; the heat runs up to my ears. The city is a hallucination, dizzy with excess life – churning my stomach into a violent nausea. In the night, somewhere in the back yard, small lives hum and buzz, jackfruits drop – plop, burst open, and...

Priya Sharma: Egg 

I consider my egg; its speckled pattern, its curves, strange weighting and remarkable calcium formation that’s both delicate and robust. It hurts but I’m determined. The old hag promised. I put my egg inside me. — Hot water soothes my skin. It plasters my hair to my...

Ng Yi-Sheng: No Other City

Listen: next Monday at 4.30pm, Singapore will disappear. The entire island, its earth and earthworks, its rivers and reservoirs, its megamalls and museums, will vanish, poof, like so much gun smoke. Its flora and fauna too: its orchards and orioles, its rain trees and...

Isha Karki: Rooting 

Branches jut towards us, splinters scrape our skin and sap leaks from bark split open, coating the curves of our shoulders, pooling in the dips of our clavicle. The forest anoints us. We can’t see through the curtain of leaves; we part our way with batons. A decade...

Anil Menon: Shit Flower

In its underground cavern, cathedral-like with its glittering spears of light and rust-stained barrel vaults, Goose continued to do what it had done for over five decades: route sludge water in the temple city of Mumbai. It was 3:04 AM IST, 2089 AD. Goose cared little...

Dean Francis Alfar: The New Daughter

When the boy inevitably grew up, married and moved away with his own growing family, the toymaker decided to make a girl. He did it this time in secret, afraid of what his neighbors would think, fearing the potential unjust accusation of prurience when all he wanted...

David S. Golding: Give and Receive

The school grounds held few secrets, for they swirled with voices eager to tell and retell, but beyond the outside wall and across the train tracks there was a hidden place. Ana found it one day after classes. She was on her way to buy coconut oil for her mother when...