Jessica Sequeira: Two Augurs
Archaic, oracular and paradoxical , inspired by studies of occult philosophy yet destined for a wider readership unacquainted with these currents , this collection of poems by Olga Acevedo
Read MoreEd Simon: VE Day 75 Years Later
If the lesson from World War II can’t be that the Allies were unassailably good, it can still be that the Axis was unambiguously evil.
Read MoreEmily Ogden: Mind Games
A Greek soldier once said to me on a private bunk in a ferry boat, “You are a good whore.” Well, I mean to say. This was absurd. I had bedded him.
Read MoreWho is free from Melancholy?
Melancholy is a condition unsuited to a pandemic. Like ennui, it is an ailment born of stability. The strong light of catastrophe withers it.
Read MoreCam Scott on Robert Glück
“In the 1430s, Margery Kempe wrote the first autobiography in English. She replaced existence with the desire to exist,” writes Robert Glück...
Read MoreAnandi Mishra: The Self in Quarantine
I was just wetting my toes into the sands of self-isolation in Delhi, when a putrid smell came along, an estrangement within another estrangement.
Read MorePoet Times
The poet is born in squalor, his first love. Some of the poet’s favorite words include seedy, shabby, seamy.
Read MoreIn these days of solitude and waiting…
Statue of Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Hamburg, Germany. via Flickr/KeokiSeu (cc) by Stephen R. Haynes Why did 13 people make their way to my campus on a dreary February evening in 2020 for a new class I was teaching on a long-dead German theologian called Dietrich Bonhoeffer? We obviously shared...
Read MoreNicholas Rombes: X’ed Out and Vivarium
Both X’ed Out and Vivarium assume an other world that leaks into the main frame world where most of the action happens...
Read MoreJulian Hanna: Do It Now
If you want to garden and you’re able, do it now. If you want revolution and you’re able, do it now...
Read MoreEli S. Evans: The Writer vs. the Pandemic II
I am “working” from “home,” in bed, when I have a cough that may or may not be dry but is definitely not wet. My stomach drops...
Read MoreRachel Howard: Midnight Sun
California has been ordered to shelter in place. And here we are, 50 miles from our home, buying chickens. A last act before lockdown.
Read MoreEternity, Hell, Angels
Current conversations about the essay—and there are many—emphasize the provisional, speculative nature of the genre, the suggestion of a test, a tryout.
Read MoreAlbert Rolls: Pynchon in the Low Countries
Martin Eve is able to demonstrate in “Historical Sources for Thomas Pynchon’s ‘Peter Pinguid Society’” that Pynchon consulted a single source...
Read MoreEli S. Evans: The Writer vs. the Pandemic
If you played an instrument before the pandemic, but so badly that it would not have occurred to you to publicly disseminate videos of yourself playing it...
Read MoreAdvice for Isolated Writers
Welcome to the new order. It’s not going to be fun or easy. But maybe you finally can carve out time to finish (or begin) that novel. You can read and write poetry.
Read MoreWager for Happiness
In the summer or fall of 1943, La France libre, the London-based provisional government led by General Charles de Gaulle...
Read MoreThe tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
Read MoreThe thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
Read MoreI spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
Read MoreThe tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
Read MoreThe thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
Read MoreI spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
Read More