In At the Kinnegad Home for the Bewildered, Levine begins his cinematic collection with the lifeblood line of the book in the second poem: “we know there is something more.” As he shifts in and out of the domestic and the divine in his poems, we feel a deep longing for kinship and connect with a speaker who is unabashed in his belief in what isn’t wholly known. Sometimes, we are located within a piece of art, and at other times, we are right in the middle of a myth or standing there, cooking in his kitchen.
All day I watch boats from the living room window. I do other things, of course, but I always come back to the boats—yachts, skiffs, catamarans. Occasionally, there’s even a dinghy, white or blue, with a small figure aboard, paddling madly.
I used to think there could be nothing lonelier than boating, but these days, I have reconsidered.
G.C. Waldrep’s most recent collection, Your Father on the Train of Ghosts (BOA Editions, 2011), was a collaborative project with the poet John Gallaher.
The Winter 2012 issue is here, with a special feature on Eileen Myles, the Neil Shepard Prize winners, and a whole mess of new poetry, fiction, and nonfiction.
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.