Yassmin Abdel-Magied’s new book, At Sea (Pegasus Books, May 2026), has been described as a feminist eco-thriller, though upon reading it, I wonder what

Editor's note: due to formatting, this poem is best viewed on a desktop. I. our salted bodies were once sewn together with moose sinew cladded in lichen |

In this conversation Ashia S. Ajani (Tending the Vines: Black Abundance in Eight Plants, Timber Press, 2026) and Beronda L. Montgomery (When Trees

I keep letters and photos from past lives inside a small cardboard box. So does my mom. A little over a decade ago, when she retired, left the U.S., and

I am sadto the point where sadness can go no further—not a single drop left.It is purely physical really.Ask a sponge.This certainty came to mewhen my

We’re proud to share this list of literary journals—all members of CLMP—publishing new poetry, fiction, nonfiction, artwork, and more in August 2026.     Adi Magazine | August 2026 Featuring poetry…

I write this while my toddler naps, splayed out innocently in deep sleep. We were playing outside when we heard the explosion. Missiles intercepted in the

In the months leading up to President Soeharto’s resignation in May 1998 after more than three decades of authoritarian rule, Indonesia was gripped by a

Permission credit: heidi andrea restrepo rhodes, “& you spill me out to fill me with light” and “& in the books of sadnesses” from Ampersand

It’s a general rule of the world that things flow downwards. I’ve been told not to let my gut do the work meant for my teeth because digestion begins in

For Women in Translation Month, observed annually during the month of August, we asked the many independent literary presses and magazines that make up our membership to share with us some of the…

Join us for a conversation about BLUEST NUDE by Ama Codjoe, with Ally Ang in conversation with Ladan Osman! Join

Oooh, do I have any right or privilege to comment on a story like this? I shall tread carefully. I was very impressed by the opening of this story. The voice was so vibrant and alive and distinctiv…

Coffee spilled across my bedsheets as I read the San Francisco Chronicle, my hometown paper, last June. An op-ed was denouncing the Trump administration

Author's note: This visual poem was developed in conversation with people who utilize the foyer of London’s Royal Festival Hall for dance practice,

“THIS IS A FEMALE TEXT.”  This is the opening line in the first paragraph of Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s A Ghost in the Throat (Biblioasis, 2020).

Content Warning: This work contains descriptions of intimate partner violence, sexual assault, and body horror that may upset and/or emotionally disturb

My mother’s luminous skin was screwed up in a wall of worry. “Forty-one degrees,” she told me as she packed her bag with marked test papers. “Any higher

“Anyone who wants to play their instrument can come,” a friend said to me that Friday as I drank some water at the bar with the members of the all-women’s

Ɔkwasea na ɔsee yɛde menua na yɛnde me.—Akan, Twi proverb that translates to "it's only the unwise that say they mean my brother, not me." It's been 6am

Join us for a conversation about PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED by Paulo Freire, with Layla Mohamed

“Anyone who wants to play their instrument can come,” a friend said to me that Friday as I drank some water at the bar with the members of the all-women’s

“Anyone who wants to play their instrument can come,” a friend said to me that Friday as I drank some water at the bar with the members of the all-women’s

God did not ask me if I wanted to be Black.The sun just opened & I fell into my father’s fearlike it was a language. I am the boy who survivedbecause

In my coldest memories, there is fire. I shiver at the top of the stairs, clutching the banister and wishing my mother would stop crying. I also wish I

Anna Badkhen will discuss her new book, To See Beyond, at Community Bookstore. Nimmi Gowrinathan will join her in conversation.

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” —Audre Lorde My hair is the first historian

at the gates, we are addressed as chasers of miragesskittering through rubbles of heritage; as wakers of lifehistories long forgotten by siblings who

Adi Magazine @adimagazine.bsky.social (Fiction Poetry Nonfiction; pays) opened to submissions https://duotrope.com/magazine/adi-magazine-33704 #amwriting

To allow myself to be seen fully, to shed all masks and performance and just be, is a terrifying prospect. Some days, it is difficult to even face my

I wake up from a dream in which you and I message back and forth.Before that, I was involved in an interstellar subplot with aliens. We meet in a backyard

A virtual panel featuring Ruxandra Guidi, Kirsten Han, Rania Mamoun, and Jesús Jank Curbelo.

Near where River Bhogdoloi flows, my family has a home. Last I was in contact, Aunt Cheema, too afraid to lead a solitary life, had married the crocodile

There is no puppy love in the time of revolutionReplace candlelight with pyres and bangs Moist lips and whispers of sweet nothing filtered through pink