10 Questions for Peter LaBerge
Des Plaines, Illinois: Acre of river. River of silver un-grief. River who alibied out. Who is not talking. Of methodical defrost.—from “Bruise Music,” Spring 2018 (Vol.59, Issue 1) Tell . . .
Read More
Des Plaines, Illinois: Acre of river. River of silver un-grief. River who alibied out. Who is not talking. Of methodical defrost.—from “Bruise Music,” Spring 2018 (Vol.59, Issue 1) Tell . . .
Read More
“Curses are different from cusses or swears, though they often merge. A curse calls down evil on someone, circumstance, or thing: “God damn you/it!” A swear is an insult, comparing someone or thing to an animal in regard to stupidity, loveless sex, and lack of spirit or reason, or to a body . . .
Read More
The goddess Bensaiten appeared to me in a tree. I was in the city park, eating meat on a stick, and then there was a noise like doves and when I looked up to see what was touching my head she was there. She looked down at me from among the white . . .
Read More
Yes, I bought you a wedding dress big enough for the two of usAnd in the taxi homewe kiss a coin from your mouth to mine.—from “Of Weddings,” Spring 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 1) We asked poet Ilya Kaminsky the same ten questions we ask our other contributors. He responded with nine of . . .
Read More
This speech was given by Michel Moushabeck on May 15, 2018, at a rally organized by Jewish Voice for Peace in front of the Town Hall in Northampton, MA. The event was organized to commemorate the 70th anniversary of al-Nakba and show solidarity with the protesters in Gaza. The Pioneer Valley has been . . .
Read More
Artist Amy Johnquest contributed the cover art and portfolio from her collection Adopted Ancestors, A Family Album (Volume 59, Issue 1, Spring 2018). Tell us about one of the first pieces you created.I’m almost sixty years old so by “first pieces” I’m figuring you’re talking about the hand painted Victorian cabinet cards like the . . .
Read More
Outside I saw the flagstones moving like heads in a Picasso painting—black beetles for eyes. The space unpeopled yet so alive.The sky torn off but still dusted with clouds.My father died in his bed—silent and cooling like the steel kettle my mother used for tea. —from “At the Open House,” Spring 2018 . . .
Read More
“She stole almost everything from me. First, Mom’s joy. Then, Grandma Bela’s tender attention. And, still, Julinho. She took away the best that I had, the adults’ trust and my innocence. She tore me from my nest. And this, one couldn’t forgive in a person, even if she is kind, generous, and . . .
Read More
My son brings home a drawing from school my wife thinks lookslike four erect penises. I say they’re just very tall mushrooms.Daddy dick, mommy dick, son dick, daughter dick, insists my wife.She believes all boys see the world in terms of dicks. Half of meagrees. The bottom half. The top consents to . . .
Read More
An Interview with Paula Bohince, winner of the 7th Annual Jules Chametzky Prize for Translation Krzysztof Rowiński: First of all, congratulations on winning the Jules Chametzky Translation Prize! Thank you for taking the time to talk about your work. Could you start by telling me about how you came to translation? Was it . . .
Read More