What Is the Medicine for Rape by Trina Porte
“What Is the Medicine for Rape” by Trina Porte last week at the acupuncturist while tiny needles helped my qi unblock the doctor told me that the chinese view the inside of the body as a garden with a waterfall flowing through next week i want to ask him do the chinese have a word for rape what is the character for it and does a spot in the garden die or does the waterfall wash it away ...
Comfort Woman by Tanya Ko-Hong
“Comfort Woman” by Tanya Ko-Hong On August 14, 1991, in Seoul, a woman named Hak Soon Kim came forward to denounce the Japanese for the sexual enslavement of more than 200,000 women during WWII. They were referred to as “Wianbu” in Korean and “Comfort Women” in English. 1939, Chinju, South Kyangsan Province Holding tiny hands fingertips balsam flower red colored by summer’s end ripening...
The Untenable by Cynthia Reeser
“The Untenable” by Cynthia Reeser A rusted gash in a frigate’s flank. Her screaming mouth. Rope uncoiling from tree. His tightening grip around her throat. Her pregnancy a hint of a lump. Rotten Easter eggs, unfound in July. His red swollen face, a Goya of anger. Spine of redfish, played like a xylophone. Her head hitting the floor, unconscious. The hot press of the mattress. The thrum and thrum and thrum of...
Body Parts by Margaret Stetler
“Body Parts” by Margaret Stetler Leg lies on the rug like a dog’s gnawed bone. Arm against the bookcase. Foot in its slipper beside the chair. Under table glass, head with blood-matted hair. The house is dark, vulnerable to sky and earth the way the sleeper is to wakeful, watching ones. In the dream I ride with a stunt driver, a man I love. He speeds to the edge of a cliff, has seconds to brake. I count on...
What We Call Love Is Seldom What We Fall Into by Sandy Gillespie
“What We Call Love Is Seldom What We Fall Into” by Sandy Gillespie ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Sandy Gillespie’s Artist Statement: I am 66. • At 41, I moved alone from San Diego, California, to Fairbanks, Alaska, to get my MFA in poetry. • I learned to backpack. To listen hard for moose and bear. To dress for -‐35 and watch, at midnight, for the...
Does the sea remember everything? I wonder.
Does she absorb everything? Does she keep it safe?
Virginia Woolf
. . .
The Q: Can you fathom the spectacle that would be created if we moved together, arms outstretched, close enough to touch?
The Q: What echoes through you that longs to take form—a poem, an image, a mark, a whisper of becoming?
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fathoms Feb 28, 2026 -
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