Volume 63: 2024 – Michigan Quarterly Review

Volume 63: 2024

Vectors of Flight

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio You wanna fly (Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon) The earth provides, makes us pillows-as-clouds that we can touch and wrap ourselves in, and instead of delighting in the miracle of a Cumulus we could reach, greed menaced our mother and enlisted youth, like pictured here, into turning the mundane—grasp […]

Vectors of Flight Read More »

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio You wanna fly (Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon) The earth provides, makes us pillows-as-clouds that we can touch and wrap ourselves in, and instead of delighting in the miracle of a Cumulus we could reach, greed menaced our mother and enlisted youth, like pictured here, into turning the mundane—grasp

Delighted Disgust—Amainsa 1992

Published in Issue 63.2: Spring 2024 My grandmother grabs hold of a squirming itchy black worm. She pinches its bottom and its insides squeeze out. A satisfying trail of shimmering black slime dollops into the bowl at her crossed feet, just missing the swirling blue patterns on her chitenge wrapper. I fidget beside her on

Delighted Disgust—Amainsa 1992 Read More »

Published in Issue 63.2: Spring 2024 My grandmother grabs hold of a squirming itchy black worm. She pinches its bottom and its insides squeeze out. A satisfying trail of shimmering black slime dollops into the bowl at her crossed feet, just missing the swirling blue patterns on her chitenge wrapper. I fidget beside her on

ode to the body

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio blessed be the body in death                                                           & blessed be the hands touching the body in death to know the coldness                                                             of the body, the hands carrying the body in death, the hands folding                                                                 the bedsheets that reek of the body before death & in death. blessed

ode to the body Read More »

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio blessed be the body in death                                                           & blessed be the hands touching the body in death to know the coldness                                                             of the body, the hands carrying the body in death, the hands folding                                                                 the bedsheets that reek of the body before death & in death. blessed

poem in parts

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio the wind licks my knuckles          again     again a church bell mouths out           another hour        now a memory the park loses its fullness      the last two boys playing catch leave as i pass i stand inside the yellow light      pouring smartly out of a street lamp   it digs my skin     

poem in parts Read More »

Published in Spring 2024 Online Folio the wind licks my knuckles          again     again a church bell mouths out           another hour        now a memory the park loses its fullness      the last two boys playing catch leave as i pass i stand inside the yellow light      pouring smartly out of a street lamp   it digs my skin     

MY HAIRDRESSER IS DEAD

Published in Issue 63.2: Spring 2024 1. My hairdresser is dead. My dermatologist too. I’m too scared to get in touch with my nail tech, and she hasn’t posted on her Instagram page in three months. Since I moved fifteen thousand kilometres away from Zimbabwe, my glam squad has been falling apart spectacularly, and like

MY HAIRDRESSER IS DEAD Read More »

Published in Issue 63.2: Spring 2024 1. My hairdresser is dead. My dermatologist too. I’m too scared to get in touch with my nail tech, and she hasn’t posted on her Instagram page in three months. Since I moved fifteen thousand kilometres away from Zimbabwe, my glam squad has been falling apart spectacularly, and like

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