Our Amuse-Bouche series offers little bites once a month to keep you satiated between issues. Dig into a smorgasbord of genres every third Friday of the month!
Look at our bones laid bare on the metal or in the grass. Slides spill like memories across the wall and while he sees his favorite legend again Scully has to hold her science in her chest. What even is real in 1999? In 2018 when I turn off cable news call my grandmother stuff […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/admin-ajax.jpeg400300E. Kristin Andersonhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngE. Kristin Anderson2019-04-29 09:48:212019-06-28 16:46:24Spotlight: Pull Me Out of the Earth and Feed Me to My Madness (after The X-Files)
Our world is constantly being reloaded with data, images, opportunities, options for reinterpretation, and fleeting impressions. In a continuously evolving world, the paintings in this series of work act as a snapshot of this maelstrom of information overload and show a scene apparently caught in limbo between reality and a dream. By using the everyday […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/8_Suddenly_in_Paradise-e1548656428468.jpg600722Autumn Hunthttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngAutumn Hunt2019-04-22 10:00:452019-06-28 16:34:51Spotlight: Oh the Places We Will Go
Born in Iran in 1984, Elham Hajesmaeili received a BFA in handicrafts from the Shiraz University in 2006, an MA in art studies from the University of Art, Tehran, Iran in 2010, and an MFA in painting and drawing from the Pennsylvania State University, US in 2017. She has held multiple groups and solo exhibitions […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/Elham-Hajesmaeili-headshot_opt.jpg400300Interviewed by Sara Voigthttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngInterviewed by Sara Voigt2019-04-15 08:43:512019-06-28 16:47:19Litdish: Elham Hajesmaeili, Artist
[flash] We had arrived in France two days before, and it was already our third croque monsieur. We bought it at a little Carrefour store, where we also got two cans of Dr. Pepper. Look, Joanne had said, didn’t Melissa say Dr. Pepper was impossible to find in Europe. So we just had to get […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Iglesias_Headshot_opt.jpg400300Jorge Iglesiashttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngJorge Iglesias2019-04-08 09:54:292019-06-28 16:49:17À La Carte: Picnic at the Champ de Mars
[translated fiction] (Readable as a loop, beginning with any paragraph) The rod rings out in the emptiness to remind me of my exile. I inhale the damp air and the invasive scent of my own misery. It was a long time ago that I took my leave of the apathy inherent to incomprehension and fear. […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Jacob_Rogers_headshot_opt-1.jpg400300Xavier Queipo, translated by Jacob Rogershttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngXavier Queipo, translated by Jacob Rogers2019-04-01 10:01:162019-06-28 16:50:37Spotlight: Routines in Cell 43
The Icon is an emerging American digital visual artist. With a love for cartoons and fun imagery, Izosceles discovered their adoration for artistic expression at a young age. Their works are colorful in nature; however, some have deeper tones underneath the playful, digestible surface. Growing up on cartoons as a child is what inspires their bold lines […]
When I was thinking back on how to write up this piece on Red Clocks by Leni Zumas, I kept struggling with the words to put down. How can I best write about a fictitious society that criminalized reproductive rights while we in the US are quite literally on the brink of a collapse of […]
Last night I dreamt of institutions. A thousand days of mood stabilizers and shock therapy. A spoon rolls over my tongue but I do not gag on the bitterness, my throat is already full of what everyone else needs to be comfortable with me being alive. // My grandmother lives in Cuba. Mother rarely speaks […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/J.David_Headshot_opt.jpg400300J. Davidhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngJ. David2019-03-11 09:53:512019-06-28 16:53:00À La Carte: There is no version of this story in which I come out the other side neurotypical
[fiction] You is not you. It certainly isn’t me, although after the initial shock of being ‘you,’ you think ‘you’ is me. Anyhoo, you take me by the hand and we climb the stairs, taking each step as slowly as if each step was a crossing into another forbidden dimension. BTW, ‘me’ isn’t me but […]
[creative nonfiction] When I was seventeen, my daily food consumption consisted of two apples per day, nothing more and nothing less. Every single calorie that I ate was tracked, measured, and promptly exterminated like a nasty virus through rigorous exercise. Every aspect of my life revolved around numbers: calories in, calories out, how many minutes […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Bethany-Bruno_opt.jpg400268Bethany Brunohttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngBethany Bruno2019-02-25 10:05:482019-06-28 16:55:25À La Carte: Two Apples a Day, Keeps the Pounds Away
Weight First thing you learn is to swallow a fist/ that sets its aim/ on the white manager who calls you/ so articulate/ as if the notion is as rare as a nun in full habit/ or unicorns/ I learned to play house/ with dolls I’d rather bury/ and frilly girls I’d prefer to avoid/ […]
Valeria Luiselli earned her PhD in comparative literature from Columbia University and has received awards from the Los Angeles Times, the Azul Prize, and the National Book Foundation. Her books include Sidewalks, Faces in the Crowd, The Story of My Teeth, Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in 40 Questions, and now, Lost Children […]
My work is a connection between nature, textile, and culture. It combines my own worlds—the rich landscape that surrounds me on the mountains of West Galilee in Israel, my expertise in the textile industry and textiles, and my Hungarian descent. This nature-textile-culture composition isn’t a trivial one. It can even be confusing. And yet, it generates a sense […]
Nancy Au‘s writing appears or is forthcoming in Gulf Coast, The Cincinnati Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Catapult, Lunch Ticket, and SmokeLong Quarterly, among others. She has an MFA from San Francisco State University where she taught creative writing. In the summers, she teaches creative writing (to biology majors!) at California State University Stanislaus. She is co-founder […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/Nancy-Au_headshot_full-size_opt.jpg400300Interviewed by Sara Voigthttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngInterviewed by Sara Voigt2019-01-28 10:08:032019-06-28 16:58:21Litdish: Nancy Au, Author
[fiction] You sit in a Goodwill engulfed in the sadness emitted by the abandoned objects, each with their own story you’re sure, and the dejected shoppers. Your chosen object is a $20 chair, cracked red leather outlined by shining buttons. You listen to a man, ratty t-shirt and balding blonde hair, sitting in a different […]
[translated poetry] Thousands of Chinese Acres of Spring When the budding of a tree isn’t closely observed Rapeseed flowers have unfolded the season by their full blossoms The golden dream of the earth thus rolls out under the cloud flowers Is woven in the wind and undulates to the farthest in March Rapeseed flowers have […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Chen-Du_opt.jpg400267Dong Li, Translated by Chen Duhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngDong Li, Translated by Chen Du2019-01-14 09:57:592019-06-28 17:00:44Á La Carte: The Spring of Rapeseed Flowers
[creative nonfiction] 1: Adab Being with family is the ultimate exercise in learning good adab. There is no simple translation for that Arabic word. Adab. A-da-ba. Turn it around, and you get ba-da-a: beginning. But you live in the West now. Your parents lifted you out of that loving, prickly embrace and introduced you to […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/shah_raidah_headshot_opt.jpg293220Raidah Shah Idilhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngRaidah Shah Idil2019-01-07 10:00:462019-06-28 17:02:29Spotlight: Healing
Valeria Luiselli’s Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions is indeed an essay responding to the absurdity of 40 certain inquiries. Yet, it is much more than that. The “tell me how it ends” refrain quotes a plaintive request from Luiselli’s daughter, who was five years old when Luiselli served as a […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/tell-me-how-it-ends.jpg596588E.P. Floydhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngE.P. Floyd2018-12-31 09:55:142019-06-28 17:46:05Writers Read: Tell Me How It Ends by Valeria Luiselli
It wasn’t just the one earthquake. It was the one before it as well, which woke me from a sound sleep. The curtains were swinging as if there was a breeze but moving the wrong way, side-to-side, and then I remembered that I kept the windows closed at night because of the mosquitoes. I heard the doorman screaming and that must have got me going […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/4AvenidaJuárez-2-e1540159516275.jpg600697Nicolas Poynterhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngNicolas Poynter2018-12-24 09:57:012019-06-28 17:08:45Spotlight: Cicatrices (Mexico City After the Earthquake)
Ma Rainey on my parade, anyday. Wear suits to that rodeo and yield it your birthing hips. Sway ‘em on stage and own the gaze of them who owned you. Heaven can’t be white when you are nutmeg ground for God. Speak easy to me and rest real hard, tomorrow will be another long one. […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/Koby_Omansky_Headshot_opt.png400300Koby L. Omanskyhttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngKoby L. Omansky2018-12-21 00:01:372019-06-28 17:30:00À La Carte: bifurcatin’ blues
Jody Chan is a writer and organizer based in Tkaronto/Toronto. They are the poetry editor for Hematopoeisis, a 2017 VONA alum, and the 2018 winner of the Third Coast Poetry Contest, selected by Sarah Kay. Their first chapbook is forthcoming in 2018 with Damaged Goods Press, and their poetry is published in BOAAT, Looseleaf Magazine, […]
I’ve been awake so long that my computer illuminates the wet of its reservoir with a whisper: The last time I was out on a Friday night I was taking transit on shabbos. It’s against halacha to kill yourself so I’m waiting for Masada, praying for a neighbour to pick my name– To bleed out […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/Syd-Lazarus_opt.jpg400300Syd Lazarushttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngSyd Lazarus2018-12-09 09:56:222019-06-28 19:22:22À La Carte: Olam haBa
Claire Wahmanholm’s debut poetry collection Wilder at times feels like a bedtime story, full of ghostlike beings, ash-blanketed landscapes, corpse-flowers, and Cassandran prophecies echoing through it all. That might sound enchanting and more than a little spooky, but quickly things feel uncomfortably familiar. Isn’t this our world? Are those our voices? Or worse, those of […]
[fiction] It smells the same, even after all these years—the smell of tens of thousands of prayers exhaled above palms pressed to the heart, thousands of bare feet padding into the prayer room, thousands upon thousands of incense sticks lit in front of the same statues, day in and day out. How could this building […]
In Michelle Whittaker’s debut collection, Surge, we begin in the after. After what is not as important as the life lived after trauma—an afterlife. Though we arrive having already crossed this border safe and sound, an epigraph from Susan Sontag reminds us that we’re still dual citizens: passport carriers from “the kingdom of the well” […]
you have to learn to live with emptiness my mother told me I drank water when I was hungry I drank water the way people hustle onto trains rushing to another city the rain begins in one window but always finds its way to all the others your dog scratches at the white couch I […]
Dorothy Chan is the author of Revenge of the Asian Woman (Diode Editions, Forthcoming March 2019), Attack of the Fifty-Foot Centerfold (Spork Press, 2018), and the chapbook Chinatown Sonnets (New Delta Review, 2017). She is the Editor of The Southeast Review. Visit her website at dorothypoetry.com. 10 Questions for Dorothy Chan: 1. What’s the most recent thing you’ve written? I’m currently working on my […]
Ana mainly explores and depicts themes that have a social element, applying elements of tactile reality such as collage and found objects to issues and situations (non-materials, intangibles) to the reality of today’s society. She is interested in exploring how perspectives work with human conditioning […]
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Ana-JovanovskaExperiment_with_A_Fictional_Alphabet-Image-1JPG-e1539651515713.jpg600788Ana Jovanovskahttps://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.pngAna Jovanovska2018-10-29 10:00:552019-06-28 21:31:49Spotlight: From Text to Abstraction
[creative nonfiction] This is the year I got old. The orthopedist says there is little I can do. Not about growing older—I already know that—but about my left shoulder. It’s not the athletic injury I thought it was, and there’s no definitive cure. It simply has to run its course, he says, dismissively. The only […]
chews on the strange stillness of his quiet unravel. she knows the undoing—like thread—will be slow & always. same as when he first moved inside of me—i remember. the both of us wide open, one exhale after the other scrawled between my legs. the ground sweats against my foot, familiar with the work. all things […]
Spotlight: Pull Me Out of the Earth and Feed Me to My Madness (after The X-Files)
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / E. Kristin AndersonLook at our bones laid bare on the metal or in the grass. Slides spill like memories across the wall and while he sees his favorite legend again Scully has to hold her science in her chest. What even is real in 1999? In 2018 when I turn off cable news call my grandmother stuff […]
Spotlight: Oh the Places We Will Go
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Autumn HuntOur world is constantly being reloaded with data, images, opportunities, options for reinterpretation, and fleeting impressions. In a continuously evolving world, the paintings in this series of work act as a snapshot of this maelstrom of information overload and show a scene apparently caught in limbo between reality and a dream. By using the everyday […]
Litdish: Elham Hajesmaeili, Artist
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Interviewed by Sara VoigtBorn in Iran in 1984, Elham Hajesmaeili received a BFA in handicrafts from the Shiraz University in 2006, an MA in art studies from the University of Art, Tehran, Iran in 2010, and an MFA in painting and drawing from the Pennsylvania State University, US in 2017. She has held multiple groups and solo exhibitions […]
À La Carte: Picnic at the Champ de Mars
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Jorge Iglesias[flash] We had arrived in France two days before, and it was already our third croque monsieur. We bought it at a little Carrefour store, where we also got two cans of Dr. Pepper. Look, Joanne had said, didn’t Melissa say Dr. Pepper was impossible to find in Europe. So we just had to get […]
Spotlight: Routines in Cell 43
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Xavier Queipo, translated by Jacob Rogers[translated fiction] (Readable as a loop, beginning with any paragraph) The rod rings out in the emptiness to remind me of my exile. I inhale the damp air and the invasive scent of my own misery. It was a long time ago that I took my leave of the apathy inherent to incomprehension and fear. […]
Spotlight: Pro-Anti
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / IzoscelesThe Icon is an emerging American digital visual artist. With a love for cartoons and fun imagery, Izosceles discovered their adoration for artistic expression at a young age. Their works are colorful in nature; however, some have deeper tones underneath the playful, digestible surface. Growing up on cartoons as a child is what inspires their bold lines […]
Writers Read: Red Clocks by Leni Zumas
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Sara VoigtWhen I was thinking back on how to write up this piece on Red Clocks by Leni Zumas, I kept struggling with the words to put down. How can I best write about a fictitious society that criminalized reproductive rights while we in the US are quite literally on the brink of a collapse of […]
À La Carte: There is no version of this story in which I come out the other side neurotypical
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / J. DavidLast night I dreamt of institutions. A thousand days of mood stabilizers and shock therapy. A spoon rolls over my tongue but I do not gag on the bitterness, my throat is already full of what everyone else needs to be comfortable with me being alive. // My grandmother lives in Cuba. Mother rarely speaks […]
Spotlight: Vocal Frying the 2nd POV
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / J.A. Pak[fiction] You is not you. It certainly isn’t me, although after the initial shock of being ‘you,’ you think ‘you’ is me. Anyhoo, you take me by the hand and we climb the stairs, taking each step as slowly as if each step was a crossing into another forbidden dimension. BTW, ‘me’ isn’t me but […]
À La Carte: Two Apples a Day, Keeps the Pounds Away
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Bethany Bruno[creative nonfiction] When I was seventeen, my daily food consumption consisted of two apples per day, nothing more and nothing less. Every single calorie that I ate was tracked, measured, and promptly exterminated like a nasty virus through rigorous exercise. Every aspect of my life revolved around numbers: calories in, calories out, how many minutes […]
Spotlight: Weight & Call Me Animal
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Nicole BurneyWeight First thing you learn is to swallow a fist/ that sets its aim/ on the white manager who calls you/ so articulate/ as if the notion is as rare as a nun in full habit/ or unicorns/ I learned to play house/ with dolls I’d rather bury/ and frilly girls I’d prefer to avoid/ […]
Litdish: Valeria Luiselli, Author
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Interviewed by E.P. FloydValeria Luiselli earned her PhD in comparative literature from Columbia University and has received awards from the Los Angeles Times, the Azul Prize, and the National Book Foundation. Her books include Sidewalks, Faces in the Crowd, The Story of My Teeth, Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in 40 Questions, and now, Lost Children […]
Spotlight: The Ornamented Leaf
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Yael SapirMy work is a connection between nature, textile, and culture. It combines my own worlds—the rich landscape that surrounds me on the mountains of West Galilee in Israel, my expertise in the textile industry and textiles, and my Hungarian descent. This nature-textile-culture composition isn’t a trivial one. It can even be confusing. And yet, it generates a sense […]
Litdish: Nancy Au, Author
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Interviewed by Sara VoigtNancy Au‘s writing appears or is forthcoming in Gulf Coast, The Cincinnati Review, Michigan Quarterly Review, Catapult, Lunch Ticket, and SmokeLong Quarterly, among others. She has an MFA from San Francisco State University where she taught creative writing. In the summers, she teaches creative writing (to biology majors!) at California State University Stanislaus. She is co-founder […]
Spotlight: Symphony of Panic
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Amadea Oberg[fiction] You sit in a Goodwill engulfed in the sadness emitted by the abandoned objects, each with their own story you’re sure, and the dejected shoppers. Your chosen object is a $20 chair, cracked red leather outlined by shining buttons. You listen to a man, ratty t-shirt and balding blonde hair, sitting in a different […]
Á La Carte: The Spring of Rapeseed Flowers
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Dong Li, Translated by Chen Du[translated poetry] Thousands of Chinese Acres of Spring When the budding of a tree isn’t closely observed Rapeseed flowers have unfolded the season by their full blossoms The golden dream of the earth thus rolls out under the cloud flowers Is woven in the wind and undulates to the farthest in March Rapeseed flowers have […]
Spotlight: Healing
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2019 / Raidah Shah Idil[creative nonfiction] 1: Adab Being with family is the ultimate exercise in learning good adab. There is no simple translation for that Arabic word. Adab. A-da-ba. Turn it around, and you get ba-da-a: beginning. But you live in the West now. Your parents lifted you out of that loving, prickly embrace and introduced you to […]
Writers Read: Tell Me How It Ends by Valeria Luiselli
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / E.P. FloydValeria Luiselli’s Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions is indeed an essay responding to the absurdity of 40 certain inquiries. Yet, it is much more than that. The “tell me how it ends” refrain quotes a plaintive request from Luiselli’s daughter, who was five years old when Luiselli served as a […]
Spotlight: Cicatrices (Mexico City After the Earthquake)
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Nicolas PoynterIt wasn’t just the one earthquake. It was the one before it as well, which woke me from a sound sleep. The curtains were swinging as if there was a breeze but moving the wrong way, side-to-side, and then I remembered that I kept the windows closed at night because of the mosquitoes. I heard the doorman screaming and that must have got me going […]
À La Carte: bifurcatin’ blues
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Koby L. OmanskyMa Rainey on my parade, anyday. Wear suits to that rodeo and yield it your birthing hips. Sway ‘em on stage and own the gaze of them who owned you. Heaven can’t be white when you are nutmeg ground for God. Speak easy to me and rest real hard, tomorrow will be another long one. […]
Litdish: Jody Chan, Poet
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Janet RodriguezJody Chan is a writer and organizer based in Tkaronto/Toronto. They are the poetry editor for Hematopoeisis, a 2017 VONA alum, and the 2018 winner of the Third Coast Poetry Contest, selected by Sarah Kay. Their first chapbook is forthcoming in 2018 with Damaged Goods Press, and their poetry is published in BOAAT, Looseleaf Magazine, […]
À La Carte: Olam haBa
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Syd LazarusI’ve been awake so long that my computer illuminates the wet of its reservoir with a whisper: The last time I was out on a Friday night I was taking transit on shabbos. It’s against halacha to kill yourself so I’m waiting for Masada, praying for a neighbour to pick my name– To bleed out […]
Writers Read: Wilder by Claire Wahmanholm
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Jordan NakamuraClaire Wahmanholm’s debut poetry collection Wilder at times feels like a bedtime story, full of ghostlike beings, ash-blanketed landscapes, corpse-flowers, and Cassandran prophecies echoing through it all. That might sound enchanting and more than a little spooky, but quickly things feel uncomfortably familiar. Isn’t this our world? Are those our voices? Or worse, those of […]
Spotlight: Pranam
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Gargi Talukder[fiction] It smells the same, even after all these years—the smell of tens of thousands of prayers exhaled above palms pressed to the heart, thousands of bare feet padding into the prayer room, thousands upon thousands of incense sticks lit in front of the same statues, day in and day out. How could this building […]
Writers Read: Surge by Michelle Whittaker
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Erica Charis-MollingIn Michelle Whittaker’s debut collection, Surge, we begin in the after. After what is not as important as the life lived after trauma—an afterlife. Though we arrive having already crossed this border safe and sound, an epigraph from Susan Sontag reminds us that we’re still dual citizens: passport carriers from “the kingdom of the well” […]
Spotlight: Immigrant
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Shuly Xóchitl Cawoodyou have to learn to live with emptiness my mother told me I drank water when I was hungry I drank water the way people hustle onto trains rushing to another city the rain begins in one window but always finds its way to all the others your dog scratches at the white couch I […]
Litdish: Dorothy Chan, Poet
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Kristina OrtizDorothy Chan is the author of Revenge of the Asian Woman (Diode Editions, Forthcoming March 2019), Attack of the Fifty-Foot Centerfold (Spork Press, 2018), and the chapbook Chinatown Sonnets (New Delta Review, 2017). She is the Editor of The Southeast Review. Visit her website at dorothypoetry.com. 10 Questions for Dorothy Chan: 1. What’s the most recent thing you’ve written? I’m currently working on my […]
Spotlight: From Text to Abstraction
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Ana JovanovskaAna mainly explores and depicts themes that have a social element, applying elements of tactile reality such as collage and found objects to issues and situations (non-materials, intangibles) to the reality of today’s society. She is interested in exploring how perspectives work with human conditioning […]
À La Carte: IDIOPATHY
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Laurie Ember[creative nonfiction] This is the year I got old. The orthopedist says there is little I can do. Not about growing older—I already know that—but about my left shoulder. It’s not the athletic injury I thought it was, and there’s no definitive cure. It simply has to run its course, he says, dismissively. The only […]
Spotlight: my sister-wife
/in Amuse-Bouche, Amuse-Bouche 2018 / Faylita Hickschews on the strange stillness of his quiet unravel. she knows the undoing—like thread—will be slow & always. same as when he first moved inside of me—i remember. the both of us wide open, one exhale after the other scrawled between my legs. the ground sweats against my foot, familiar with the work. all things […]