Plume Issue #125 January 2022

Diane Arbus (1923-71)
Xmas tree in a living room in Levittown, L.I. 1963

  • Carmine Starnino’s ‘Dirty Words’ reviewed by Mark Wagenaar

    For this month’s installment, I thought I’d wander a little farther afield—a little farther north
    Plume Issue #125 January 2022
  • On Long Poems, Lyric Sequences, and “Cop”; An interview with Connie Voisine by Amanda Newell

    First, a hearty congratulations on being awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship earlier this year...
    Plume Issue #125 January 2022
  • Reading the Qur’an with Rumi by Amer Latif

    Amer Latif, a native of Islamabad, Pakistan and current professor of comparative religions and Islamic Studies at Emerson College who…

    Plume Issue #125 January 2022
  • de Voogt, Sadoff, Mitchell, et. al.

    Alex de Voogt on translating Cavafy: In 1915, Constantine Cavafy wrote a poem with hemistiches, a set number of syllables…

    Plume Issue #125 January 2022
  • A Poem Translated from Greek by Alex de Voogt

    He went inside the café     where they would go together.
  • I’m Not Waiting and Out of the Past

    I’m no longer waiting for the dunes of Tulum,
  • Death and the Miser

    When death comes, it all goes:
  • The Twenties

    Consider the twenties, not Gatsby, not Daisy, not that old Roaring,
  • Two poems by Katja Gorečan (from The Sufferings of Young Hana /Trpljenje mlade Hane) translated from Slovenian by Martha Kosir

    hana likes to sit on the balcony when it rains.
  • Sister Dementia Remembers & Phone Booth

    Enough of bosom, ass, and pillow—
  • What I learned from ‘Saved by the Bell’

    Only half a dozen people actually exist
  • Willem Van de Velde the Younger, Ships in a Gale (1660) and Matsumura Goshun, Crab (late 18th century)

    The storm dissolves the difference between wave,
  • Seesaw

    The sun was overhead. The playground steamed.
  • Dust

    You return with us to the grave,
  • Three Stages of Friendship and Grief

    I was wondering if your eyelashes had fallen out
  • When We Make Lifelines, the Universe Breathes a Little Easier

    When night becomes heavy, I break a hole
  • A Controlled Substance

    My brother is late again, somehow the glass
  • Dear Meat

    What's your point?