Alex Kuo in Beijing’s 798 Photo credit: Zoe Filipkowska Pyne’s count could be extrapolated further: a hundred cloud-to-ground lightning strikes per second. Such strikes account for about 10 percent of the annual wildfires in the United States, and since 1982, there has been an alarming rise in the total number, directly linked . . .
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A review of David Diop, At Night All Blood Is Black. Trans. Anna Moschovakis. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2020. Lyricism is, strangely, no stranger to the trenches of the First World War. Whether to contain or to inflame the horrors, writers like Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon, David Jones and Erich Maria . . .
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A tankercapsized offthe Georgia coast, 4,000 Hyundaisslippingto their murky deaths—From “The Book of Other,” Volume 62, Issue 4 (Winter 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.I can do more than tell you about it. Here it is: Kiwi Fuzzy footballin the sand.Shave the beardand bite the chin. In . . .
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My mother does not know a lot of things, and yet she remembers many things. When I tell her over the phone that I am thinking of learning how to sail a boat, she does not ask how it is that I could do something like this in Tehran, a city far . . .
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Meg Kearney’s All Morning the Crows (The Word Works, 2021). Shelley begins his famous, “To a Skylark”: “Hail to thee, blithe Spirit! Bird thou never wert. . .” Then for the next few stanzas he works hard to show the “birdiness” of the bird, until he finally gives up in a series . . .
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My mother does not know a lot of things, and yet she remembers many things. When I tell her over the phone that I am thinking of learning how to sail a boat, she does not ask how it is that I could do something like this in Tehran, a city far . . .
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Photo by Gino Mifsud Peter Bogdanovich passed away this week of natural causes. He was one of the great American directors, of course. His three picture run of The Last Picture Show, What’s Up Doc, and Paper Moon has seldom been equalled, and although his work after that (without his brilliant collaborator . . .
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My last (Soma)tic poetry ritual, “Resurrect Extinct Vibration,” used audio field recordings of animals who have become extinct in my lifetime. The ritual momentarily returned the music of the disappeared back to the air, the body, and the land.—from Ignition Chronicles, Volume 62, Issue 4 (Winter 2022) Tell us about one of . . .
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Five miles from Buchtel the snow has turned to rain, the creek laps the edges of the road. Tomorrow the ground will freeze again, flood trapped, no place to go—from “Rt. 13, Late May,” Volume 62, Issue 4 (Winter 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.The first . . .
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I drop my daughter off at her first day of preschool—re-opened after a year closure. Masked teachers, unvaccinated children.—from “Preschool Sonnet during the Pandemic,” Volume 62, Issue 4 (Winter 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.The first poem I wrote that was published in a literary journal was . . .
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