Jennifer Richter’s poems invite us to understand that each of us is a threshold—something pain passes through.
What does it mean to be “in the house,” to be held in place in an age of motion, of fleeting relationships, realities, and contexts?
In Jami Attenberg’s new novel, a woman flees her comfortable life and finds a mixed bag of possibilities in Sin City.
“She wonders if sex is like math, like if you make a man want to eat your hair or go too far, does it follow that you balance the equation…
A jilted lover expresses her lust, hatred, and remorse through exquisite courses of caviar, duck, and tongue.