Category / Issue #35 May 2014

May, 2014 – featuring Kazim Ali, Idris Anderson, Linda Bierds, Peter Campion, Tadeusz Dziewanowski (trans. by Daniel Bourne), Kathleen Graber, Noelle Kocot, Emmanuel Moses (trans. by Marilyn Hacker), Lawrence Raab, Tom Sleigh, R. T. Smith, and A.L. Snidjers (trans. by Lydia Davis).
Featured selection by Amit Majmudar. Cover art by Allen Forrest.

The Labors of Psyche

Because I could not not-know any longer I held the lamp over him He used to sing me in roads across the sky I wander now between anarchy and will And who comes in the night to say “think harder”

Fresco

We stayed in a monastery cut up into condos, ours with a terrace of dried-up papery roses overlooking Fiesole. The clang of the bell in the morning and evening, the lights of bridges across the Arno, even the road—bumpy, rutted,

Dirt

-The Wellcome Collection, London   Just after Wierex etched a toddler Christ sweeping, then dusting a believer’s heart—one angel keeping watch with a clean-up bucket— de Hooch and his countrymen painted courtyards, each with its scrub brush and kneeling maid,

Pacific

Balconies and streams of cars on the 101 the sour milk smell dumpsters in Vacaville and mist between the promontories dripping on ice-plant all patch inside the day as earth circles and comes up streaked with dew.   But the

Two Poems

Between Poems   Here in this moment before the perfect poem Capable of explaining everything I’ll write for you something make-do about the god of love and death But not for awhile because now I must hold this cat on

America

America, I have a friend for whom everything went south after the death of her cat. It seems melodramatic & hyperbolic to say so, though sometimes even the melodramatic & hyperbolic are true. Another truth: She saw it coming, but

Almost Nightfall

City lovely in its concocted dream, there Is nothing more separating the I & the you.  On The em dash of consciousness, we crossed The fierce Rubicon together, we made   Sound and judgment defy phlebotomy.  The Human soul bonds,

Preludes and Fugues, Cycle C

Prelude 1 Watch your cat leap up in fright and flee the moment he hears a certain sound just what is he afraid of ? He doesn’t know, knows no longer a mere reflex triggers his terror whose cause is lost

So Much More Mournful than Bef…

This morning, remembering the end of an unpleasant dream, it seemed important to think about Edgar Allan Poe. Was he really afraid of being buried alive? Or had he figured out exactly how nervous he could make us?   He

Proof of Poetry

1 I wanted first to end up as a drunk in the gutter and in my twenties I almost ended up there—   and then as an alternative to vodka, to live   alone like a hermit philosopher and court

Miss Favour, or Dear rsmith@gm…

Hello Dearest, My name is Miss Favour, and I am here to seek that lonely, great and ideal man, myself a lovely single girl who wants to be courted with and marry.   I was born a princess in my

Wool Cap

Flip is coming for dinner, I hear his car driving past the house.  I’m sitting at the table under the lamp wearing my knitted wool cap, I’m supporting my head with my hands, he can see me.  It is a

FEATURED SELECTION: Abecedaria…

By way of introduction to this month’s Featured Selection, a “conversation” between the poet, Amit Majmudar, and new Associate Editor for Special Projects Nancy Mitchell, followed by the work itself and some biographical material. Mitchell: I loved your playfulness in the