Plume Issue #150 February 2024

Miki Fedun, “Kyiv, 2017″

  • Smith, Purpura, Zwart, et. al.

    Ron Smith: a prose piece on his poem “August 3rd”:  Stroke The August 3rd events in my poem happened many,…

    Plume Issue #150 February 2024
  • Dispatches From Lviv, A Conversation With Halyna Kruk, Dzvinia Orlowsky, Ali Kinsella, and Chard deNiord

    Dzvinia and Ali, your upcoming collaborative book, Lost in Living, featuring translations of Halyna Kruk’s poetry, and for which you've just been granted a 2024 National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, is set for release in spring 2024 through Lost Horse Press.
    Plume Issue #150 February 2024
  • Rae Armantrout’s “Notice” reviewed by James Sherry

    I notice that most writing called ecopoetry turns out to be little other than pastoral description of the kind that has been around for 2000+ years.
    Plume Issue #150 February 2024
  • Sexy Beast: The Song of Solomon by Barbara Hamby

    Barbara Hamby combines exemplary exegetical skills with colorful commentary in her analysis of the biblical poem, The Song of Songs in her essay  titled “Sexy Beast, The Song of Solomon.”
    Plume Issue #150 February 2024
  • The Reckoning and 3AM

    Shadows stretch across the pine floor
  • Two Poems translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa

    I told myself, why not
  • August 3rd

    After twenty horrific minutes, I think she
  • A Brief Portfolio

    Not built to just do it
  • First Communion, forty-two and the unnamed

    I shall sit here, on this bench,
  • Unrest or What the French Horn Can Teach You

    To master the French Horn, you need lips of steel
  • Ode to Hands translated from Spanish by Mihaela Moscaliuc and Juan Suárez Proaño

    Nothing can hide from hands
  • Hymn of the Squirrels, Echidna Tremens and Singled Out

    Not an issue of ‘variety’, of red, brown, grey and black,
  • The Angels’ Share and Poem Without a Title

    Over distilleries’ rooftops, angels tipple
  • Streak, Exit Survey and Against All Endings

    A jackknifed semi full
  • from Sleeping with Bashō

    Growing out of clouds like a cedar tree—
  • Dear Lucinda Williams and Dear Jules

    A power in proximity to terror, the lower middle-class sublime of a car’s back seat,