TSW launches Community Anthologies
Our latest storytelling platform We are thrilled to launch our new Community Anthologies program, which gives the editorial keys to four editors-in-chief. This cohort of curators will work together over the course of five months as they curate their own anthology — for example, “On Work” — showcasing seven voices in each anthology. This new platform enables us to publish an additional 28 voices, nearly doubling the number of people we can publish each year. At a time when we’re seeing literary magazines closing their doors, TSW is dedicated to building more platforms for our communities’ voices. This new cohort-based storytelling platform takes everything we have learned and become over seven…
Two Poems
A man I didn’t love / died today—a growth / in his colon’s fragile spiral.
Two Poems
They make border out of moving body / and announce that it is dying / and that Mexico owes the U.S. water / but not from our wet backs.
Two Poems
I am dirt, bruised by lake light. white rain, mauve / clouds, the sky’s breath leaking.
Two Poems
The frangipani’s last falling flower makes its way to a graveyard on the passing-by shroud?
Empire a Call Away
Started telling my grandmother / I love her. Loudly, daily, over video calls with / my mother, my mother holding / the phone.
Bloodlines
it’s 1906 / my great grandfather Sam lays tefillin / for the last time then leaves / them on the bedside table, / a loosening; the leather straps / left to dangle
The Granary
This past November, I was a visitor in a house with many presences: a mouse in the ceiling, ladybug colonies in the doorframe, accumulations and whispers in the hollow of the wall.
like [my] mother, like me
If the bath is a womb, the shower is a river, a rain. Distance between droplets makes a better clean, not deep, but a clearing.
Old Friends Let Things Go
In December, Karen and her family left the murky skies of Philadelphia behind and touched down at LAX on a breathtakingly warm and sunny day.