01.31 Emily Barton & Melanie Rae Thon *
03.14 Lysley Tenorio ^
03.28 Clark Coolidge *
04.25 Matthew Zapruder & Brenda Shaughnessy +
* at Memorial Hall
^ at The University Club
+ at The University Museum of Contemporary Art
Upcoming events at Flying Object
by Ashley Ellen Goetz
Untitled Ashley Ellen Goetz
* Note from the Editor
It was the last class of the semester and we had brought wine and food and sat in a circle and read poetry and drank our wine and ate our food. At the end of class, I offered Ashley a bottle of wine that I had brought and had remained unopened. She accepted. She offered me brie.
by Reynaldo Sietecase // translated by Daniel Coudriet & Mariela Méndez
Nebula Camper Sarah Hotchkiss
The sky is really
a mirror of the sea
with killer waves
armed with tridents
by Jason Larson
Sprouting Brian W. Ferry
“You ready for eggs, hero?” Burt’s morning glory said.
“Good morning morning glory,” Burt said. Burt stretched. Burt smiled.
by Sarah Boyer
I have the courage to stay missing I do
by Leora Fridman
Out My Window Brian W. Ferry
Finding me acceptable was easy and
done with great dignity
by Michael Bazzett
To Move a Body (Piggyback) Noah Krell
The blueness of snow shadows.
The flaring hoods of our simian nostrils.
The whorled inwardness of our ears.
The metaphysics of the screen porch.
The pleasant weight of a body in a hammock.
The puckered face of good whiskey.
by Andrew Michael Roberts
Moon With Face Mirror Caleb Charland
world, let’s take
by Michael Teig
Peach Parts (detail) David Gilbert
Each morning for years
I sit at the desk like a treaty.
by Emily Hunt
by Emily Hunt
by Emily Culliton
Fangoria Nuria Rius
When I was twenty I spent this time in Moscow. Before I went, I studied Russian for a month and a half, learned five of the six cases, and thought I was doing pretty well. Then my teacher told me that the first year of Russian was devoted to the cases, the next four years to all the exceptions.
by Kyle Flak
A Reunion of Lost People Ida Rödén
What Hank Said On the Bus
she smells like a pine forest
she is a tiny secret room hidden inside the pacific ocean
by Sara Jaffe
He went from being a sit-down singer to a stand-up singer, but the chair was still there if he wanted it.
by Brian Mihok
photo: Brian W. Ferry
The academy sent a car for Jesse and Milton when they were twelve. There was no discussion. Boys can’t live alone, the man said and straightened his uniform.
by Heather Varnadore
Erika (detail) Ellen Rumel
[Excerpt from a novel in progress]
Widget cantered into my house that evening in a swingy, electric blue a-line coat, matching blue tights and white Chelsea boots. There was probably a skirt there if I’d scrutinized.