In her latest collection, Come the Slumberless to the Land of Nod, Traci Brimhall takes on the impossible task of all mothers: she tries to sing us to sleep. But even sleep can’t save us from the violence and chaos of the world. Even in sleep, there is a haunting, a symbolic language which speaks to us of the world we will return to upon waking.
Growing up, one of my favorite shows was My Favorite Martian. If you’re not sufficiently ancient or addicted to terrible — I mean, retro-cool — TV to remember, Ray Walston’s title character looked like a human but had knitting-needle antennae he could raise from the back of his head, plus an aluminum foil spacesuit and other unspecial effects. Bill Bixby, his Hulk days still ahead, spent three seasons in the 60s trying to conceal from the neighbors that Uncle Martin was an alien. Hijinks ensued.
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...