I began going to therapy after a difficult postpartum. My therapist often read incomplete sentences aloud and asked me to fill in the blanks: I like [coffee]. I regret [my birth experience]. My greatest fear is [change]. A mother is [perfect].
Read MoreWhen we met, I was freelancing as a photographer while finishing my degree. He was older, more established in the industry. We began dating. I saw his large-format film camera, his home darkroom, and immediately it became apparent I was an amateur.
Read MoreKafka’s Metamorphosis is a kind of dream or nightmare—it’s a work of psychological anxiety, not a call for revolution. Or, at least, that’s the usual interpretation. Elizabeth R. McClellan’s poem “The Later Life of Herr Samsa’s Picture” takes a different approach: It crawls into the margins of Kafka’s story and drags out a parable about feminist working class queer solidarity, all the more precious for being found in such an unlikely place.
Read MoreFew of us know the heartache of being unable to return to the homeland that shaped us. In “Little Crane,” the narrator immortalizes her grandfather Po Po, who embodies all that she knows about her ancestral land of Burma.
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