For the next 60 seconds, set aside whatever you’re doing and take this opportunity! Let’s see if Satan can stop this. My grandfather sends forwards. I don’t think many other 87-years-olds use the internet, although in the future they…
Jack Little : Sometimes foreign writers living in Mexico misconstrue the country in their work
Jack Little (b. 1987) is a writer from Newcastle, currently based in Mexico City. He has forthcoming poems in Wasafiri, Ink, Sweat and Tears and The Barehands Anthology. He is the founding editor of The Ofi Press Magazine, which…
Visual Art by Eleanor L. Bennet
Eleanor Leonne Bennett is an internationally award winning photographer and artist who has won first places with National Geographic, The World Photography Organisation, Nature’s Best Photography, Papworth Trust, Mencap, The Woodland trust and Postal Heritage. Her photography…
Three Poems by Margarita Ríos-Farjat
Yearning Translated by Karenina Osnaya A desert That today is still called Tacubaya. Nothing remains José Emilio Pacheco It is said by José Emilio that in Tacubaya nothing remained. Octavio Paz always longed for the Mixcoac that…
Four Poems by Ingrid Valencia
Translated by Jack Little Intact Certainty is the skin reflected in the water They are the hands that sail in the deep until one denies the horizon sitting on the white stone of old age There is still time…
Three Poems by Fernando Bonilla
Images of Power Images of power Are banging at my door. I woke up smelling The bitterness of the old Puppeteer getting tired, getting angry At me and the rest of the world. They are resented, they despite us,…
They Might Think that I Am an Angel by Fer de la Cruz
Translated by Jonathan Harrington God gave me an editing job. Between dreams I would mark the errors, all the way from a primordial Alpha to an impending Omega still under construction. I saw the universe in rough draft. There…
Bubbles by Camila de la Parra
I All my friends have grown up inside bubbles. They float a few centimeters above the soil And swear there’s dirt between their toes. It’s all lies of course, I have seen how their momma’s servants Clean under their…
‘Mexican’ Literature by Raúl Bravo Aduna
The words “Mexican Literature” make me feel uneasy. I hardly know what to do when I come across them. And it is not that I’m not a “good Mexican reader”—whatever that means—, but there’s something about that particular literary label…