Memoryland

Art for Memoryland.
o
d
d
s

a
n
d

e
n
d
s

You Might Also Enjoy

Mass. Ave.

Sarah Green

I was fifteen. My father and I stood
at the basement threshold, shouting
at each other, maybe the only time.

poems

Fulcrum

Jana Prikryl

1. Across the river her voice sends shreds
torn from something gelid, all acute
angles though the surface of each. . .

poems

Brief Lives (IV)

Eliot Weinberger

Vanna of Orvieto
(Italy, d. 1306)
Her heart burned so intensely that she took off all her clothes to pray and still. . .

stories

Further Reading

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.