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Issue 13: Rebellious Joy
An Essay on Processing
Meg Sykes
Art
,
Prose
TSW Art Director, Meg Sykes, on creating the featured image for Issue 13: Rebellious Joy
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Rest Begets Rest: Community Postcards
Bianca Ng
Art
TSW Artist in Residence, Bianca Ng, on creating the featured art for Issue 13: Rebellious Joy
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Rest Begets Rest: An Essay
Bianca Ng
Art
,
Prose
TSW Artist in Residence, Bianca Ng, writes a meditative inquiry into rest
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Rebellious Joy Resource Guide
A companion guide of supplemental materials for Issue 13: Rebellious Joy
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If I Had Known Then That Casey and Rhian Were Both Terrible Pieces of Shit, Puberty Would Have Been Way More Fun
sheena d.
Nonfiction
,
Prose
We’re all on the grassy patch of land east of Christ the King, our school, with our uniform plaid skirts hiked, wearing way too much lip-gloss and not enough deodorant.
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Family House
Alysia Gonzales
Fiction
,
Prose
When Mom called to tell me the news that Memito had died, I went to go fish out that old photo from what could barely be called a closet.
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Matrilineage [Recovered]
Sarah Ghazal Ali
Poetry
Editor’s Pick
I came / I was culled
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Reliable Supply
April Yee
Poetry
My fifteen dozen eggs––compulsive purchase of inherited scarcity––are delivered in blue cardboard honeycomb.
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Dear Memphis poems
Rachel Edelman
Poetry
Do you get jealous? / Here, I walk / sweatless in the sunlight / and no one tries / to fry an egg on the sidewalk.
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“Xenophobia” and other poems
Jennifer Perrine (JP)
Poetry
I am quick to enter when you’re gone, freeze at your alarm. I gave up knocking long ago.
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“all dreaming as amputation” and other poems
Swastika Jajoo
Poetry
on this shore, there is a body with an arm cut. / i fumble with the forsythia, that nudge of spring
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Related to Rhythm: Three Poems
Natachi Mez
Featured Artwork
,
Poetry
what power is in my hands / my hands be power, be power, / my power is in what hands, my what / is power in whose hands.
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Products of a Revolution
Aaliyah C. Daniels
Poetry
In 1973 a black boy / was murdered on / my Mother’s birthday
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Little House in the Big Pandemic
Grace Hwang Lynch
Nonfiction
,
Prose
At night, when Laura lay awake on her memory foam mattress, she listened and could not hear anything at all.
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Rebellious Joy
Issue Parent
How do we claim the kind of joy that creates a rupture for passage through all the horror and despair?
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