The Fourth River

Viewing: 2018

Tributaries, The New Nature: “Freeze and Thaw”

By on March 14, 2018

By Emily Withnall   I met her in early January on a sidewalk in Missoula, Montana. It was only nine but it felt past midnight, the dark and cold thrumming along my skin, the stars dagger points suspended in the

Tributaries, The New Nature: “Another Morning”

By on March 7, 2018

By Soo Young Yun   The kkachi [1] watches the girl, admiring her ebony tresses as dark as his own tail. She peels off her shoes and lays them daintily behind her, much like every time she enters her home.

Tributaries, The New Nature: “the tenth muse (i drink to you)”

By on February 28, 2018

By Sylvan Lebrun   I sit across a table from a mortal bleeding out as the cruel touch of admiration flays her alive for to think of a person as more than a person is to kill them and when

Tributaries, The New Nature: “Death Means Beautyful”

By on February 21, 2018

By Akpa Arinzechukwu   Patched pavements — broken lamps and shards of bottles that once knew comfort In the hands of heavy drinkers — All the things that string life together spiral away — you weren’t a spectator You were

Tributaries, The New Nature: “From this Sharp Place”

By on February 14, 2018

Selected by Ira Sukrungruang   By Alani Hicks-Bartlett   Despite our vantage point / from this sharp place, / there is such an expansive and gaping silence / to the left, / where the low, smooth valley / boasts the

Tributaries: “Emperor”

By on February 7, 2018

image by Christopher Michel   By Justin Herrmann   Pipes Froze. The bathroom at the ice runway near McMurdo was covered with inches of black water. Samantha suggested we clean in our bunny boots to keep our feet dry. In

Tributaries, The New Nature: “After the Gayborhood is Gone”

By on January 31, 2018

Selected by Ira Sukrungruang By Barrie Jean Borich   When the lingerie and sex toy store with sharp-dressed mannequins moved in around the corner, Linnea and I had high hopes for the neighborhood. The second story storefront had a show

Tributaries, The New Nature: “Outlanders”

By on January 24, 2018

Selected by Ira Sukrungruang   By Dheepa Maturi   I remember a mangled mallard, a blotch of emerald, a blur of brown on the dirt road, and though I’d been told never to touch a bird because they carry diseases,

Tributaries, The New Nature: “What Remains”

By on January 17, 2018

Selected by Ira Sukrungruang   By Nicole Robinson   Near the edge of Lake Erie a common tern skims the shoreline for small fish. Behind me the marsh is golden brown with only buds of green. Migrating warblers flutter their