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“what are we, if not held together by little dreams?”
Like buzz-free air, a paper plane in a sticky sky, Like algae-coiled moats glazed by lemon-shade sunrays, Like…
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My Mother’s Hands
My mother’s hands were made of wool, or of silk that carried moisture like a seed, unlike the…
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Overcast, 1945
1 They had him living in a gray brick apartment building on the only intact block on Hohensteiner…
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Domestic Sentences 45
I like that the night Ozzy Osborne died someone spraypainted “OZZY” on the construction equipment on the highway…
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Down The Mountain
“Sounds like you’re getting new neighbors,” Dierdre said. She and her husband owned the Sunrise, the only restaurant…
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Bedtime
I woke up on a bed of cool, cooked rice it was The Summer of Love it was…
Mortality Mediated
Editor’s Picks
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Watching a Train Go By
Dreaming some huge, incomprehensible wordsa man who’d be an artist made them writheon boxcars flashing by us as we wait.One blood tipped consonant cuts like a scythe, others are crushing…
Current Issue
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San Antonio Review
Volume 7.2
Winter 2024
Winter 2024
Volume 7.2 · Winter 2024
A season of difficult light
Fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and art that lingers after reading.
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Open for Submissions
We publish work that
stays with you.
stays with you.
San Antonio Review accepts fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and art on a rolling basis. We read everything we receive and respond to every submission.
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