Take anything that stands beyond your ghostlike apparatus, / crenellated brain, the grasping neurons. / we might understand of understanding.
James Hoch reviews two new collections from Horsethief Books, Elizabeth Scanlon’s LONESOME GNOSIS, and Michael Bazzett’s OUR LANDS ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT
Yolanda, the security guard, sat in a tiny chair behind a school desk at the entrance of the rundown building on West 181st Street that served as headquarters for The District offices. An enormous woman with breasts the size of throw pillows straining the coarse blue fabric of her uniform, she wore her hair pulled up on top of her head in a tight bun; the style fit the determined expression carved into the cool black marble of her face. She hated her job, and probably was surly to everyone, but Mimi took it personally, because Mimi took everything personally.
Jeffrey Harrison is the author of Incomplete Knowledge (2006), a runner-up for the Poets’ Prize; Feeding the Fire (2001); and The Singing Underneath (1988), chosen by James Merrill for the National Poetry Series.
I walk a lot. This city is the city I will remember as the one I was living in when I first began to notice the physical effects of aging. And yet I am more or less fit.
Slavery in the South seems like an exhausted subject, but Laird Hunt’s Kind One feels fresh.
We played croquet in the yard, cartwheeling when we felt it. When her mom would call us in for lunch, we’d save the game for later, or the next day, or the next one. Her mother smoked those minted cigarettes . . .
We are very excited to congratulate the winners and finalists for our first ever Neil Shepard Prizes in Poetry and Fiction.
It seems fitting to conclude this season's Why Write? series as deftly as Daryl Scroggins began it. And who is more deft than Edward Mullany? Why Write? An old woman tells the story of how, in her youth, she fell in love with a man who was not the man she would...
Alice Fulton has said of Suzanne Wise's work that "it bristles with the struggle to define and comprehend the absurd component of evil and despair." Here in her "Why Write?" piece she turns toward the "monastic devotion" that it takes to write, to look Reality...