Every now and then I catch it: a cluster of motes, a brown gathering at the tops of my cheekbones, age spots; grey hairs shot through with light, fibre-optic electric in the fluorescent glow of a grotty bathroom; the fleshy syncopation of my upper arm, waving a...
I reached the shallow end and searched across the Olympic-sized pool for my father, allowing myself to hope that he had witnessed my lap. With joyful splashes, my sister and brother performed an endless series of handstands near me. Shouts and whistles bounced off the...
we sit the two of us you face the tv we sit the two of us you face the tv i take turns glancing at your face as i raise my bowl to drink the soup there are war torn cries from the screen not loud enough to disturb the silence between us the actress on that screen more...
your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. your lips they twist perceptions in an instant. my ink stained fingertips try to make sense of it and all the things you say, all the things you do you seem to forget. when i was younger you loved me because i had the...
See, the living room’s TV is on. It is always on when the Tseung family is home—and sometimes even when they are out—during, before, and after meals, which are the markers the family uses to record the passing of each day. See, the living room’s TV is on. It is always...
I was ten when I first felt brave enough to say, "sometimes, I just feel like I want to go home... but I don't know where home is" I was ten when I first felt brave enough to say, "sometimes, I just feel like I want to go home . . . but I don't know where home is"...
Koller’s novel explores universal concepts of what it means to exist and grow, to root and transplant—as an artist, a woman, a human, a living thing. Art Lessons has the potential to take root in your heart—let it. “Trees, for me, are like humans,” writes Cassie, the...
Part art criticism, part biography, part lyric journey, Painter, Poet, Mountain studies the intersection of inspiration, experience, and creation that is inherent to various forms of artistic expression. Ut pictura poesis (“Just as painting, so, too, poetry”), perhaps...
Pulsing with an old-world, occult feel, Barclay’s poetry draws the reader back in time with its tarot readers, bearded ladies, riding caps, griffins, and witchery. By Adèle Barclay Nightwood Editions, 96 pages, $18.95 2016 “Where are our time machines?” asks the...
If I think about what I’m doing, I’ll never get off the plane. After all, it’s ridiculous to believe a computer program can predict two strangers will develop a meaningful relationship. It’s even more ridiculous to test that prediction by flying halfway across the...
ROOM 49.2 SCIENCE
I hope this issue makes you curious and furious, leads to 2 a.m. Wikipedia rabbit holes, fulfills urges to seek out knowledge-keepers. Quickly or slowly, dive in: -ologies of all varieties await you.
ROOM 49.1 No Future for Who?
In Room Magazine 49.1 No Future for Who?, we are really asking. We are coming in hot. We are causing a scene. We are being unreasonable. We are not fucking around. We are not taking “no” for an answer. “No” is the only word we still know. For who? For who? No.
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