Issue #140 April 2023

Franz Marc, The Foxes, 1913

  • “Flüchtige monde” / “fugitive moons” translated from the German by Joscha Klueppel

    mountains recall their flock of birds. the dear birds,
  • In Case the Messiah Comes

    In Case the Messiah Comes   Split screen city. East doesn’t go West and West doesn’t go East. Occupied neighborhoods,…

  • The Voice of the Dragon: A Conversation with Katy Didden by Frances Richey

    Katy Didden’s new collection, Ore Choir, is a book to savor on many levels.
    Featured Selection
  • Harmon, Fagan, Buckley, et. al.

    Bradley Harmon on translating 2 Poems by Katarina Frostenson: A poem, like many poems, that upon and after reading infuses…

    Editors Note
  • Voicegrass and Incantation…translated from the Swedish by Bradley Harmon

    the word the night bore
  • Cassandra Atherton, “The Life and Times of Big Mr. Prose Poem”: While the Undertaker Sleeps: Collected and New Prose Poems by Peter Johnson

    Self-confessed “wise guy of the prose poem” and also its unofficial laureate, Peter Johnson is one of America’s foremost practitioners and critics of prose poetry.
    Essays and Comment
  • Reading Heidegger Brings a Wild Joy

    My discovery of your essential thingness
  • Oj Golube, Moj Golube

    I was born to pigeons cooing.
  • Steer’s Head Triptych

    the cowboy cut, the wrangler,
  • Perspective and Day Sex Ode

    I have often confused the expression center of gravity, first
  • Aqua and Violet

    Childlike ones don’t tattle on the choice of stepfathers.
  • Elevator Boy

    All night I lifted them through seven stories
  • Four Poems translated by Christopher Buckley

    In the early morning the city is something else.
  • Milkweed Lullaby and Radio Lullaby

    The days were endless,
  • First Days at the Conservancy

    I’m looking out the window—Paula’s window—
  • “This We in the Back of the House” by Jacob Sunderlin reviewed by Jimmie Cumbie

    Let’s make praise: Jacob Sunderlin’s debut, This We In The Back Of The House, is an often bruising and intrepid collection of Indiana-based poems
    Book Review
  • Regret

    Later in life, we enter the neighborhood