Slow, Sloppy and Brilliant

onehundreddollars:

naliterarymagazine:

Our Spring issue, released next week, will feature work from:

Victor Espeland
Cean Gamalinda
Howie Good
Kyle Hemmings
Liz Herzog
David Lewitzky
Isabelle Johnson
Luke Pelletier
Bob Schofield
Lily Shell
Jennifer Smith
Lisa Sterle
Matt Whitman
Em Young

If you’re in the Chicago area, we will be having a release party NEXT WEEK, complete with poetry readings, music and more. Ask us for more information.

- N/A

Awwwww yeah.

Issue 5 is going to be a good ‘un. Be sure to pick up a copy next week when it goes on sale.

If you didn’t make it this time around, DON’T FRET. STOP YOUR FRETTING RIGHT NOW. We are still looking at all the submissions we received for inclusion in issue 6!

naliterarymagazine:

Our Spring issue, released next week, will feature work from:

Victor Espeland
Cean Gamalinda
Howie Good
Kyle Hemmings
Liz Herzog
David Lewitzky
Isabelle Johnson
Luke Pelletier
Bob Schofield
Lily Shell
Jennifer Smith
Lisa Sterle
Matt Whitman
Em Young

If you’re in the Chicago area, we will be having a release party NEXT WEEK, complete with poetry readings, music and more. Ask us for more information.

- N/A

Awwwww yeah.

Issue 5 is going to be a good ‘un. Be sure to pick up a copy next week when it goes on sale.

If you didn’t make it this time around, DON’T FRET. STOP YOUR FRETTING RIGHT NOW. We are still looking at all the submissions we received for inclusion in issue 6!

naliterarymagazine:

I want us two to see
the Steins’ collection
at the Met.
I want to write something
because I am in love.
Maybe let’s go to the Giant Forest
and see the Sequoias of Sierra Nevada:
they’re too big to throw your arms around
but big enough
to admire so let’s stand together
in awe of old age. If we lived
that long would we still
have to write and paint?
If we were Sequoias?
We could, side by side
and entangle
faithfully in mystic secret.
How short
3,000 years must seem to them.

 

- Vincent Maglori

 

 

Vincent Maglori is an English major with a mysterious minor studying at Rutgers University in New Brunswick. A recovering illiterate, he began reading and writing in his freshman year of college in an attempt to rectify and perhaps compensate for a chronic disinterest in literature instilled via the sure hand of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations 4 years earlier. Since, he has added a fancy for poetry, Willy Shakes, and Japanese literature to his list of interests, which previously consisted of comic books and manga, post-punk, jazz, and ambient music, Seinfeld, Odilon Redon, a few not so good movies, and not much else. He can be found at http://maglorious.tumblr.com.

 

This poem and more can be found in the fourth issue of N/A Literary Magazine, a quarterly collection of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, comics, and illustration from up-and-coming artists and writers.


To celebrate the upcoming release of our fifth issue, all back issues of the magazine, including issue four, are on sale. Support independent publishing and pick up a copy for only $3. 

naliterarymagazine:

last night in the shower
i saw that spider crawling up the wall again
so i killed it
and wept rivers.

today is autumn.
damp tangerine summer rust.
excited eyes all slumped in tremor
checking in, checking out; hot
lecherous breath against two-way mirrors
down the opposite stretch of some one-way road.
right past the green quadrangle, now brown.

see, i haven’t slept in years

see, 
i had these festive fears flat
on my sharped song like shears so
back in the back i used my heart to spearhead
my peers to be endeared.

but that was spring,
and this is tears.

this is autumn, yes.
fall has fallen and cracked against the curbside
underneath littered feet 
stagnant off beat and
there are remnants of things that i have never seen and seen again:
in a remembered dream
all alone in the open
down the opposite stretch of some one-way road.

and this morning up the waterspout
i saw that spider again. 
no,
i saw that spider again.
it looked at me 
i remember you
i killed her.

fiddled thumbs.
rivers.


- Ewa James Ewa

naliterarymagazine:

last night in the shower
i saw that spider crawling up the wall again
so i killed it
and wept rivers.

today is autumn.
damp tangerine summer rust.
excited eyes all slumped in tremor
checking in, checking out; hot
lecherous breath against two-way mirrors
down the opposite stretch of some one-way road.
right past the green quadrangle, now brown.

see, i haven’t slept in years

see, 
i had these festive fears flat
on my sharped song like shears so
back in the back i used my heart to spearhead
my peers to be endeared.

but that was spring,
and this is tears.

this is autumn, yes.
fall has fallen and cracked against the curbside
underneath littered feet 
stagnant off beat and
there are remnants of things that i have never seen and seen again:
in a remembered dream
all alone in the open
down the opposite stretch of some one-way road.

and this morning up the waterspout
i saw that spider again. 
no,
i saw that spider again.
it looked at me 
i remember you
i killed her.

fiddled thumbs.
rivers.


- Ewa James Ewa

onehundreddollars:

There are only a few more days to submit your poems, fiction, nonfiction, comics, and illustrations to N/A, so if you’ve been waiting, hop to it!

Submit all work to: NALiteraryMagazine@gmail.con

Please include a short bio with your submission!

Now is the time, the time is now, is time the now, the now is time.