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10 Questions for Diamond Forde

- By Edward Clifford

he told me he was glad I wasn't fat yet
but this time, with flesh glutinous on my arms and back,
hips spread like grain, I wax at his bedside and watch
his violeting cheeks, their bruised orchids flutter
with every labored breath and I allow myself
to imagine what he must see:five years and my body
pours like golden-throated honey. We are breatheless.
—from "The Last Time I Saw My Grandfather," from Volume 61, Issue 2 (Summer 2020)

Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
I think early on, writing became one of the places where I could say what I was never confident enough to say in real life. Poetry is a contradiction in that way—it creates a space of vulnerability, but in that...


10 Questions for Patrick Barron

- By Edward Clifford

A few days after Italo Calvino's funeral I jotted down the notes that follow, in order to remind myself of the situation and the feelings of the moment. I had just returned from France, and that evening Calvino's wife (Chichita) called to tell me that Italo was dying. I left that night by car toward Siena together with Carlo Ginzburg's wife, Luisa, while Carlo arrived by train from Rome.
—from "Italo's Death" by Gianni Celati, Translated by Patrick Barron, Volume 61, Issue 1 (Spring 2020)

Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
When I was a little boy in Montana, I think about three or four years old, I used to dictate my memory of...

Our America


- By Ward Schumaker

In the year 2020, is it still comforting to be assured that God is on our side? Do we sleep better, knowing God put Trump in the White House? That he is the Chosen One? That the people working for him were brought to their position by God's providence? Or that Trump has a spiritual advisor capable of scaring the hell out of demonic spirits?

One nation, under God: that's us!

See Ward's other posts Kids-In-Cages, Trump Papers, and Fiddling during the First 1000,000.

WARD SCHUMAKER is an artist known in particular for his hand-painted, one-of-a-kind books. An...


10 Questions for SeSe Geddes

- By Edward Clifford

Shelley washes up once or twice a year
on the beach at the end of my street.
And I still feel lucky to find him—my dear Bysshe,
all tangled in burgundy seaweed on the sloping shore.
And not the real one, mind you, not the one they dragged
rotten from the Italian surf, ten days dead, bloated, faceless
half eaten b sea life, the cartilage of the nose rising
from the sodden flesh, the ragged eye sockets blooming
with tiny crabs and bugs…
—from “Shelley on the Beach,” Volume 61, Issue 1 (Spring 2020)

Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
One of the first pieces I had published—well, I think it was published—was a poem addressed to a mean girl in...

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