Tikkun (https://www.tikkun.org/category/arts-cultural-critique/poetry__fiction/page/2/)
"Right there at one of the long brown tables in the middle of a class I don’t care about, I realize I’m in love with someone from the university, which is funny because being in love with someone from the university is what my husband accuses me of all the time." A short story by Cady Vishniac.
“He was afraid of girls. It didn’t matter how shy or friendly or fat or pretty or plain or desperate the girl was. He was afraid of them all. Then he grew up and his father died and he was still afraid of girls . . ." A short story by Jennifer Anne Moses.
"Having procured the grape leaves, the Whole Foods shopper sat back down next to me on the bed in our married couple pose, lifted the comforter up over himself again, and started munching. . . I was entranced." A short story by Cady Vishniac.
"The truth is, even now he doesn’t know how or why he’d so abruptly turned his back on his wife and children, forsaken his wedding vows, and broken with Jewish law. It was almost as if he’d been under the influence of a drug." A story by Jennifer Anne Moses.
"No, he did not know, as his mother and father did, what it meant to truly be afraid for one’s life." A short story by Becky Tuch.
"[She] tapped out another Kent from her packet, handing it to him. See, she wanted to say, capitalists can be generous." A short story by Julie Zuckerman.
He’s wearing a Trump mask rubber / I notice / I don’t care - Two poems by Colin Greer
She fumbled for the bedside lamp as her husband asked who was it now, for the love of Pete, and what made college students think they could wake up their professors in the middle of the night. She kissed his forehead and told him it was probably one of those wrong numbers again. People should really know better than to drink and dial, she said, knowing that her little joke, like previous attempts at cheerful intimacy, would most likely fall, to use a biblical expression, on uncircumcised ears. He rubbed his nose and mumbled something into his pillow, rolled over and resumed snoring, first softly, like a baby, then with rapidly increasing vigor. She cupped the phone in both hands and whispered a hesitated hello into the receiver.
"And the moment I was able to look them / in the eye, they opened theirs, // as surprised as I was to find themselves alive." A new poem from Jon Swan.
"someone came back / from the edge of the world [...] / chanting the word tolerance / over and over, as if / that would change anything." A new poem from Steven Kleinman.
"The sea that tumbles onto shore is not the sea / we waded in as kids. We’ve changed its nature." A new poem from Jon Swan.
"The problem was excusable, almost: / that they thought there should be a place / in the world that would welcome them. / But why?" A new poem from Steven Kleinman.
"Swaddled in sweet fiction / they will rise from the ground again / laughing like the cheaters they are." A new poem from Kim Roberts.
"Your wings are institutions, and therefore / too slow. / They weigh you down." A new poem from Stephanie Burt.
