Star JonesSun RaMan RayFreddie MercuryVenus WilliamsBruno MarsWarren MoonEartha KittChris RockLauryn HillRandy MossGünter GrassCarson DalyKeira KnightleySally FieldScott McCloudRobert FrostVanilla IceEdward SnowdenClaude RainsRainn WilsonRiver Phoeni

When I was regionalthey let me have handsdelicately they let me out of the factory I was freeto draw lines with borrowed handsfailing to reproducethe one treegrowing sideways out of the one coffee shopsuch were the nutritional demandsof the national

At first, they talked only of Sanfilippo. “I said, you know, thank goodness it’s not autism,” Jenny said, so exuberantly that it took Marion a moment to register the joke. “We thought Danny might have autism,” Marion said. They sat in Jenny’s living

Lately I’d become obsessed with sewing stuffed animals. I’d seen a bear in a store and thought it was cute, so I went to a hobby shop and noticed they were selling kits that included the yarn, needles, and other little things you’d need to make them.

On the fourth day, my housemate’s ex left radishes and kale on our stoop. They shouted up at our second-floor porch until my housemate came out. They told her she could have the garden plot they’d sown together. It’s too far from my place, they yelle

HANNAH ARENDT (1906–1975) was a German-born political scientist and philosopher. What Remains: The Collected Poems of Hannah Arendt is forthcoming from Liveright this winter. AYÉ ATON (1940–2017) was a painter and musician. His work will be included

This was the farewell:Many friends came with usand whoever did not come was no longer a friend. This was the evening:Haltingly, it slowed our pace,and drew our souls out the window. This was the train:Measuring the country in flightand slowing as it

The building, a brick row house, was only a few blocks from the subway, and Amy got there first. A rose had been left on the stoop, laid vertically on the slanting top of one of the stubby walls that descended on either side of the steps. Against the

Mad as only an angel can bethe angel’s lip curls like a dog’smad to make an angel curlof their angel lip, mad to dogmad to the third rail the angelrides beside on the stupid angeltrain, spreading their angel kneesso you can’t sit down. That angelis m

pray for somewhere else, I decided,since the city was takenbut in the phrase I found real devastationnot about citieswhere I’ve never beenor people – I meanabout excession itselfthe thing simeon turns from in the bookwhat berlin and marseille promise

Cover: © Sterling Ruby, photograph by Robert Wedemeyer, courtesy of Sterling Ruby Studio. Page 12, photograph by Jean Vong, courtesy of Simone Leigh and Burnet Editions; pages 36, 41, courtesy of Rosmarie Waldrop; page 44, photograph by Heinz Puppe,

A far bird sings again, a little further. There is less and less differencebetween your shadow and the shadow inside youand all the shadows, and the evening softly taking holdsays It has always been evening and now you know.■

The co-op boardconducts its monthly meeting. Should they buy a golden luggage cartto help with heavy packages? No, no golden cart. It sendsthe wrong message. Can residents who paint or drawdisplay art in the lobby? No, their art might be ugly.And now

What I like about success, Monsieur Sauvage, is the love that goes into it—not so much the surprise or the wonder, and certainly not the admiration. So, being a curiosity was a very tough job for me. Yes, what a thankless job. I can show you the cont

EDITOR EMILY STOKES MANAGING EDITOR KELLEY DEANE McKINNEY SENIOR EDITOR HARRIET CLARK ASSOCIATE EDITOR AMANDA GERSTEN WEB EDITOR SOPHIE HAIGNEY ASSISTANT EDITORS OLIVIA KAN-SPERLING, ORIANA ULLMAN EDITORIAL ASSISTANT OWEN PARK POETRY EDITOR SRIKANTH

The story of Aesop’s partnership with The Paris Review is one plotted by a deep reverence for the written word. Since 2015, we have been proud to offer this esteemed quarterly for purchase in select stores across the globe and at aesop.com, inviting

There’s no end to the woes that mothers face come summer vacation. All the children are at home. When they’re not in front of the TV, they’re either climbing the guava tree in the front yard or perched on the compound wall. What if one of them falls

MOSAB ABU TOHA is a poet, short-story writer, and essayist. His second poetry book, Forest of Noise, is forthcoming from Knopf in fall 2024. REBECCA BENGAL is the author of Strange Hours. DEEPA BHASTHI is a writer and critic who translates Kannadalan

Cover: © Jeremy Frey, courtesy of the artist, Karma, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Page 12, © Jeremy Frey, courtesy of the artist, Karma, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art; pages 34, 43, 48, 50, courtesy of Mary Robison; page 53, photograph by

That summer we had decided we were past caring. It was just too tiring, rushing back and forth between mental institutions. My father was in a well-known sanatorium in Switzerland, but to see him each month mistaking himself for Alfred de Musset, tal

Stellatundra, Albadune, Whiteout,Zebranivem, Faloop’njoompoola. —Engaland, she said. Or a crystal bead of meager bees, a noctifuge suitcaseon the tip of the tongue. Give me loops.Give me turtles. O remolino de abejas marronesen un veliz “noctífugo.”

I know a certain amount about sports, mainly baseball. Last night the Rangers won the pennant, for example, and I know what the pennant is. The thing my husband finds truly poetic is sports. He’s always trying to talk to me about it and explain. “Wat