Visual Art
From My Pillow
Artist Statement: Once you learn to ride a bicycle, you never forget the place where you learned how. At least, that’s the way it worked for my father. When I was a child, he would
Najib Joe Hakim
Artist Statement: Once you learn to ride a bicycle, you never forget the place where you learned how. At least, that’s the way it worked for my father. When I was a child, he would
Author’s Note: This is a first-person eyewitness account; some names and identifying details have been changed or combined to protect privacy. Events are presented as remembered; timelines are condensed for clarity. ~ We woke into three
Mariam sat up straight, legs folded under her, and continued to fiddle with the armchair’s fraying upholstery. I waited silently as she took a second to master her tears. The marquee from the neighboring hotel provided
The Venus of Odesa: New and Selected PoemsBy Askold MelnyczukMadHat Press, 2025. 139 pp. ~ On the cover of Askold Melnyczuk’s The Venus of Odesa: New and Selected Poems, a young blond woman looks at us reproachfully:
Author’s Note: To be the spouse or partner of a war veteran can truly be an exercise in vigilance. We become aware of the significance of particular dates, of images. We might notice goosebumps raised on
It had rained all night. But the morning was sunny and gorgeous. The dappled sunlight formed chiaroscuro patterns that appear only in summer. Early birds were chirping, and the air felt clean and fresh. I was on the train, watching tiled and metal roofs, stations, and passersby.
By Abby E. MurrayRecovery CommandsEx Ophidia Press (2025), 95 pp There is a familiar predicament that many of us can recognize at once: We’re in an environment, not of our making, with which we’re not
*Editor’s Note: All paintings are acrylic on canvas and were completed from 2024-2025 Since April 2023, a civil war has been raging in Sudan between two rival factions of the country’s military government: the Sudanese
In the Market Cross Shopping Center, down the car-park stairwell, three young men shared a joint. Emilio Evans passed the spliff to Heboru Newman, sitting on the step below him. “Do you think Bertie Ahern molests
The sudden ring of the phone in the darkest part of the night jars me. This is probably not good. “Hey, Corporal. Oops—Lieutenant, how are they hanging?” a very boozy, familiar voice from my past
Author’s Note: I was born in February in 1941, with the winter tremors of war already in my bones and therefore part of my personal and national inheritance. “Homeopathic Remedies for War Fever” seeks to
Peace is a Shy Thing: The Life and Art of Tim O’BrienBy Alex VernonSt. Martin’s Press, 2025 Tim O’Brien’s thirteen-month deployment to Vietnam produced The Things They Carried, his indelible literary response to the war. He was