Summer Freeze Eileen G’Sell Fertility tourism could mean that countries like Spain prioritize foreign women over their own citizens.
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On gay porn—from the 1950s to the 1990s. On gay porn—from the 1950s to the 1990s. The Money Shot Daniel Harris , January 2013
On liberal dreams of a more imperfect union. On liberal dreams of a more imperfect union. Bridges to Nowhere Nathaniel Friedman , September 2018
Alienated Traveling While White Rafia Zakaria Peering into the solipsistic worlds of travel influencers
Found in Translation From the Deep Forests and Seas of Yambaru Shun Medoruma Against the U.S. military presence in Japan.
Unflinching Prisoners of a Grandiose Make-Believe Colin Asher Jan Valtin’s 1941 memoir of revolutionary fervor, suffering, and lost faith.
The Crime Wave That Wasn’t Katya Schwenk Burlington tried defunding the police—then came the backlash.
Hong Kong Literature’s Growing Pains Jaime Chu The city’s Anglophone writers are caught at a crossroads
love just don’t fade away Benjamin Krusling I said I’m proud of you , he said the same I said what’s that missing from , what’s that hail and will I wake from these visions of defection to change them in time to change them ? to puncture that kind of gun wave gun lean gun warning crisis call that eschatological hemorrhage from the image factory is time ill , curable ? can justin timberlake still distract from the war ? what’s pride in the states ? no kids and people say good —but I was so hurt by the idea . between the day end and the destitute— running over the bridge to get sun , bread it’s a miracle of material so I can explain it—there’s no antisocial destination , jerking and scratching the uprising actually exceeds reason—it transforms meaning this orange burst in the air—the floodlights pulled down to the street we can’t just tap our veins for content when we haven’t eaten what’s needed—I fell out on the white sheet of the bed and depressed a hole in the world , brought back with ice and honey—I tried to reassociate—the burning precinct more than pleased me—pleased to enter my life from inside it and ask what’s the real horizon—but when he heard that, he lost patience . lost it that’s how it looked from across the room , where I live so we have to look superheroism in the face and peel it off not get shaved to pieces by fishbone , fishscale of propaganda in the black night , it’s nasal , aluminum , fucks your DNA up makes the image wet with plasma and weeping
the way you appear, the way you do not appear, is planetary Emma Claire Foley the neighbor comes to tell me we landed on Mars. asks: how’s the wife? she has reached a state of theoretical refinement heretofore unknown. this means: her body has become the bowl of a lake, her hair now reaches down to the wink of an armpit. wife says: I am a victim of the planets. there is nothing like being present for your own moment of crystallization. I am doomed to desperate copulation in the service first of all of reproduction. wife says: there is no water on mars. the lake (fecund) is scummy it’s lousy with ugly life