Ilya Kaminsky’s second poetry collection, Deaf Republic, is an exhilarating and anguished poetic narrative. Sixty poems tell the story of an unspecified event wherein, “SOLDIERS—arrive in Vasenka to ‘protect our freedom,’ speaking a language no one understands.” The chilling poems that begin and end the collection suggest an acceptance of the preposterous—an all too familiar, yet distressing reality in today’s Unites States of America.
I turned to the breath-steamed window, parting a pane with my ungloved hand. There among the ornamental maples of the cemetery, I could just make out the wise men: bulb-lit, clustered, faces in prayerful repose. They appeared the day after Thanksgiving and stood through late January, long after we’d packed the plastic mistletoe in tissue, dragged molting trees to the curb. I never found out where the extension cords led.
When I was growing up in Ireland, magpies had an evil reputation. In contrast to our liking for robins, blackbirds, thrushes, and other common birds, magpies were reviled. They were considered rogues, condemned as the criminal element of the avian world.
As I enter the garage to lift weights, I hear a vicious roar. To my surprise, I find a turquoise jaguar sitting on the washer. I drop my water bottle and run back to the kitchen. I retrieve a birthday cake from the fridge, and throw it to the jaguar.
Warhol & Kafka
Usually I obey the barking & thank an invisible God for invisible fences.
A bad batch of Molly, out of context, sounds so innocent.
What I was going to say is code for before you interrupted.
Back and forth, the waves sloshed in a steady rhythm–a calming musical accompaniment to the day.
Dzanc Books. 263 pp. In the first chapters of her memoir, Origins of the Universe and What it all Means, Carole Firstman packs up her father’s old house. According to his specific instructions, she organizes boxes to send to him at his new home in Mexico, and...
She said she had seen a ghost, or a blurry vision, as she called it, behind our bedroom mirror.
I am cleaning out a woman’s underwear drawer,
a woman who burned herself to death in the woods last week,
The editors at Green Mountains Review are pleased to announce the winners of the first annual GMR Book Prize. Many congratulations to all the finalists! And congrats to the winners! The winning manuscripts will be published Fall 2016. PROSE Judged by Sarah...