• sunday in ordinary time

    Nathaniel Chew Issue 2: Vanishing, January 2024 oldsame bodies in the season’s chairs, assuming round table positions a truth beside gospel. those who still believe play musical prayers until grace lukewarms, piecemeal in many mouths. post-credit-style popo continues after amen, give us good health like she is miracling the cabbage into a greener body. constant…

  • Minutes on a Wholehearted En-Bloc Sale

    Natalie Fock Issue 2: Vanishing, January 2024 Natalie is currently reading Law in the United Kingdom, barely escaping Singapore’s threatening heat. In search of catharsis, she tends to the written word as an output, more often resulting in further confusion. Her work was previously featured in the Singapore Poetry Festival and in online publications such…

  • Permacrisis Is Word Of The Year

    Miguel Barretto García Issue 2: Vanishing, Jan 2024 Winter is here but the cold won’t stop The world from burning. I do what I have to do. Laundry. Water my plants And bury my cat. There are a hundred Mothers shrieking on my couch When onion and cabbage prices Have gone up. I turn the…

  • sekolah melayu

    Pulau Tekong, Singapore, 2016 Jonathan Chan Issue 2: Vanishing, January 2024 Jonathan Chan is a writer and editor of poems and essays. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore and educated at Cambridge and Yale Universities. He is the author of the poetry collection going…

  • before, above

    Qamar Firdaus Saini Issue 1: RISE, July 2023 ham ham squeaks to let the night in. his hind leg’s upright, body pulled above the horizontal, wheel spinning, gathering the dark.see how it washes and bogs this room. i lie. my body a spindle, our memories of seattle spooling – the park at kirkland, molly moon’s…

  • the wound is where light enters

    Qamar Firdaus Saini Issue 1: RISE, July 2023 i think about cows and how you don’t eat beef for non-religious reasons. there is an after- taste i can’t describe – when our tongues meet i remember the twang of guitar strings, my shoulder dislocating from the weight of your head, my anchor, or our combined…