The house is large.
There are animals and a damaged man and curated plants and old floors that bend. There is furniture and dust and good light from the south side of Williamsburg.
I clean the house to restore order. The house
The house is large.
There are animals and a damaged man and curated plants and old floors that bend. There is furniture and dust and good light from the south side of Williamsburg.
I clean the house to restore order. The house
WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR CHARM
and your horniness? my friend Shadow’s wife Wanda blurted out during Thanksgiving dinner. They had invited me to join them because I was a lonely widower, but Wanda was talking to her husband.
NWWQ October 2023 submissions are closed. We will accept submissions again JANUARY 1–14, 2024. Below you will find the October 2023 issue of NWWQ. We thank all who submitted
If the opposite of dark is light, then what is the
opposite of the body? Bleeding down your leg
because you can’t find a tampon anywhere?
That one split second before the music starts?
The fact that once you’ve watched someone
(Translated from Japanese, Zuihitsu means “following the brush.”)
1. My cat’s eyes follow the brush. She feels left out, wishing her tongue were as wide and deep as the bristles I pull across my scalp, and that she could make it reach the length
Maybe on a Thursday, maybe tomorrow. You will knock knock knock at the door. I will be afraid to open it, having grown scarce and wan like I have. I will be afraid of all the things that aren’t love.
I will be in the kitchen.
Just Fine
At my annual physical,
when the nurse asks me the screening questions, I lie.
No, I am not afraid to go out.
No, I do not feel anxious.
No, I get the same pleasure from everything
that has ever made me smile.
The Cat That Eats Copper
When Yang Xin’s mom was pregnant it was
during the Family Planning Crash-Down Campaign, and she was given
an abortion shot.
Yang Xin had a big life, as they said, and
survived. Only she looked curled
J’aimé un cheval – qui était-ce? – Saint-John Perse
The race is run.
The rest of the field is still out there, eating dust.
They’ll be fine, once they get home. A rub down, an apple. Johnny Carson.
Now,
This way,
Beyond
I ran by Bob’s grave this morning. He died on September 10th, 2016. He was only thirty something. On his grave were some fake flowers and a small, stuffed Ninja turtle. Raphael, I think. It had red armbands.
Bob lived in the house
Before the first date Petra already knows how futile it all is. She is aware of how inadequate she looks, standing half-undressed in the middle of her room, three or four discarded dresses at her feet. Last night, unable to
The gay guy from earlier in the year still cruising at the mall, more circumspect today with his mum attending. Neat, well-dressed, tidy woman retaining her looks, uncertain whether she knows.
Two small amusements from earlier in the afternoon.
I AM STRANGE
I take the leafy road
in midsummer,
below a trove of hidden stars,
drawn by orange light
in the distance,
beyond wheatfields,
in step with a dragonfly,
like the wind’s instrument,
heading
Forget the sleazy storefront agency. I am here. Next to you. Dressed in a fraying trench coat with sunglasses made from an owl. I am living in celluloid. In a piece of black-and-white 16-millimeter film, cut hard and pasted
In your next life you could be an orchid
or dandelion. Who’s to say who’s better?
Fragile beauty or gold grit? Seriously:
it takes all kinds. Literally: everything
is designed to be what it is, to do
as it does. You can stamp your tattoo
Not looking for trouble, I avoided an encounter with my former friend, who shall remain nameless because naming him would seem too much like contact. Taking walks helped clear my head, but seeing Nameless (NL) on one of my
Looking Twice
—Tracy Sweeney’s Rain in Moonlight (oil on wood)
The rain strings a gloomy tune
for the line dance of trees,
the sky beats its heart drum
to silence the croaking frogs,
the moon veils her face
behind fleeting clouds.
This is a shadowscape
A nine-year-old boy, I wanted a sirloin steak at a neighborhood restaurant, an Italian place on 4th Avenue in Dayton, Kentucky. The week before, I’d heard some guy at the next table ask for that, a leisure-suit man with
After work, I find a headless mannequin lying face down in my driveway. The mannequin is dressed in a gold tuxedo and polished, black leather oxfords. A crust of red crystal clings to the craggy stump of the mannequin’s
Tired, I was fighting with myself, a duel between my good and bad intentions. I should have known but I couldn’t predict what my opponent would do next. I found myself in every direction in my kitchen. Where could I run? I had an ordinary face, thin