Translated by Alex Niemi from Vincent Tholomé
I revel for three days in shaggy fur
I stink a beast and a bug
a cow tail whips my brow
Greetings, readers, and welcome to issue 41 of carte blanche! I am substituting for Greg Santos, the Editor-in-Chief of carte blanche, for this issue—we and the whole masthead are so proud of the pieces we are publishing this month. The theme for issue 41 is “Resilience,” a topic that has been on many of our minds for the past year.
Translated by Alex Niemi from Vincent Tholomé
I revel for three days in shaggy fur
I stink a beast and a bug
a cow tail whips my brow
by Marcy Rae Henry
you ask: how many pictures will we take
before it’s time to give up the bra
by E. Hiroko Isomura
i’ve been tracing the shape of my lifeline through livestock-stalls and mud, grown foreign and faded.
Read Moreby Rachel Lee
We have conversations no one remembers. Some months later, I break up with my boyfriend.
Read Moreby Gabby Vachon
Defiance, but smells no different to the line of cattle
in the drive through
by Sarrain Soonias
im gonna kill him
people need to get to the creek where the adventure happened
by Nicholas Karavatos
by Willy Conley
They say that mushrooms and fungi are resilient organisms, highly resistant to stress. They have a fleshy resistance and can sprout overnight.
by Alexandra Tamiko Da Dalt
“How did you get here?” he asked, his face bemused but lined with confusion. “I walked,” I said, performing a caricature of walking.
Read Moreby Sophie Elan
You step over rocks that shift your ankles precariously. Sliding on a strip of beached bull kelp, you see them.
Read Moreby Fawn Parker
Hypothetically baby I’m talking in the ultimate rights and the wrongs of things. Yeah I’m leeching. Yeah I’m the one who’s squirreling. I’m poaching.
Read Moreby Noa Padawer-Blatt
It makes the crowd joyous and the magician proud. He must commit to the trick until it becomes real to him, too.
Read Moreby Brooke Lockyer
Not everyone on Lake Joseph is a husband or a wife. Elise, a retired high school art teacher, spends her days alone, painting male portraits on her verandah in the early morning light.
Read Moreby Brandon Kashani
At night, Richard and Harriet would sip white wine over microwave dinners. The make and vintage never really mattered, as long as it was as cold as possible.
Read Moreby Joanne Gormley
I ring ten times before letting myself in with the key she gave me. My sister Beatrice is in her bedroom standing at her full length mirror wearing a long black evening dress.
Read Moreby Jessi Eoin
A comic strip on coming to terms with chronic illness.
by Mugabi Byenkya
Read More