One Illuminated Letter of Being, Donald Platt’s new collection of thirty-two heart-wrenching poems, is oriented around the loss of his mother—itself a disorienting experience, for anyone—that anticipates her death, reconciles itself to it, and resumes living, in a new way.
We leaned back/in the planetarium/seats, looking up/into the dark–/a father and his/two sons. We heard/what could have been
From my window, I look out at Montpelier’s empty streets, trying to tune out the COVID-19 news updates that ping and bing on my phone, asking myself why this all feels so eerily familiar. I know this jumble of emotions. Fear, helplessness, despair, and also the sense that we’re all in this together.
Surrealism is a flight against Oblivion. Taking to the winds of Memory on the magical wings of the supra-real. Reality through an extraordinary idea of Reality. What creates memory and what creates forgetfulness, surrealism asks us to ask ourselves.
Your anger arrives on the back of a train/Arrives in my yard. The neighbor’s grass too long, and the city getting interested
A visit to the hair salon every seven or eight weeks for me is the emotional equivalent of attending a high school reunion, the kind where two popular girls, naturally both cheerleaders, rush you in the restroom line, singsong, “Are you married yet? We didn’t think so,” and whizz off in a confetti of giggles.
Picture a garden, circling it, a field on fire, rich with color, but in that color is lack, and at first, you can assume a grander theme; assume a seduction associated with color or vibrancy, but that’s one of the first things you learn in school: everything is made up of shades.
GMR is happy to announce the addition of Lupe Mendez as our new Contributing Poetry Editor!
Miracles Come on Mondaysby Penelope CrayPleiades Press, 2020 Please lock me in the quiet room so I can once again concentrate and give Penelope Cray the attention she exacts from each story of her debut collection, “Miracles Come on Mondays,” published by Pleiades...