Category: Blurred Genre Contest

by Sara Elkamel There is a black and white portrait of my grandparents on their wedding day framed with a red velvet trim in the small house of my childhood, where my grandmother taught me to pray. She’d stuff my head in one of her many prayer scarves, which held me like a tent. I’d…

by Adriana Rewald Two Glots sit on a rock and swap farts. One makes a sound the other can’t quite match and they laugh. What one starts the other fails to finish out loud, though it seems the perfect cluster of expression. Words that can’t be formed splash away. Words that can are regurgitated and…

Runner Up ~ Blurred Genre Contest 2019by Kimberly Andrews : The new midwestern climate of the intellect: Albertus Magnus attempting to reconcile Aristotelian doctrine with the conviction that fundamentally, deep sadness is not productive. Gloom must not cause you to steal beauty products, you must still shower, your suspicions must be formulated as timely critique…

by Nancy Au Ms. R, 80, stole salmon roe, sweet Japanese creeper, a frying pan. Fourth term. Final sentence, two and a half years. Has a husband and a son. Imprisoned for trying to run from her husband’s delusions and paranoia after his stroke. Shoplifted breath. Stole companionship. Ms. R, 80, said to Life, I…

by Monica Ong Monica Ong is the author of Silent Anatomies (2015), selected by Joy Harjo as winner of the Kore Press First Book Award in poetry. A Kundiman poetry fellow and an MFA graduate in digital media at the Rhode Island School of Design, Ong has been awarded residencies most recently at the Millay…

by Elana Lev FriedlandBlurred Genre 2019 Contest Winner The children the children the mothers wore them like purses like scarves draped over mothers the children All hail the mothers the mothers for they are doing the Lord’s work doing their work in the name of the Lord yes the Lord See the mothers God bless the mothers…

by Hudson Cooke

by Hudson Cooke