Author’s Note: Absurdity exists during indirect fire while waiting for the all clear. You’re surrounded by imperfect people that you’ve learned so much about. “Concrete Cathedral” celebrates but does not sanctify these people as they exist within moral uncertainty, fear, adrenaline, and the complexity of the wait.
Author’s note: In this poem, I sought to explore Jakarta as a place of the past that has inherited a history of colonial occupation and violence. Through a semi-autobiographical account of my father’s and grandfather’s encounter with a policeman … I seek to humanize the casualties of war, and emphasize the comparative vastness of war’s lingering grief …
Author’s Note: To be the spouse or partner of a war veteran can truly be an exercise in vigilance. We become aware of the significance of particular dates, of images. We might notice goosebumps raised on the arms of our beloved from what might seem meaningless to anyone else—but to one of us, a sound might make us come to attention in our own quiet ways.
Author’s Note: I was born in February in 1941, with the winter tremors of war already in my bones and therefore part of my personal and national inheritance. “Homeopathic Remedies for War Fever” seeks to address the ongoing malady that is war. It is a prescription for that illness we all are wounded by.
Author’s Note: In the late 60s, when I was a teenager, we were all anti-war—the war in Vietnam. The guys had to register for the draft as soon as they turned eighteen. The you of this poem opted to join the Navy, although it was a six-year tour of duty, betting that it would be safer than fighting in a ground war.
Author’s Note: My poem comes from an ekphrastic workshop hosted by the writer and artist Jay McCoy. As inspiration, he offered up a cull of photographs with fuzzy origins. This one called out to me with its distance and contrast: the angled violence of the composition, the boyish diffidence of the subject’s stance, the heedless chickens.
Author’s Note: This poem sprang out of the experience of crossing the border from Ukraine to Poland, seven months after the 2022 Russian invasion began, and while living in Poland, surrounded by the still-lingering effects of World War II.
Author’s Note: Why was Japan at war—because “we” wanted resources from neighboring countries. “We” wanted political influence over the world. If I was a decedent of “we,” what can I—we—do for this world?
The Marvels of Little Extents Our god is awake but chose to ignore us as a cloudemptying glass into a child’s mouth there were days he gifted us the sky as a culture plate we madestreaks on it & hoped a colony of stars would
Author’s note: This poem is part of a series of poems I wrote based on the life of Fred Astaire, who was a complex yet sincere and caring man. In this poem, I especially wanted to show his empathy for the men who served in World War II, specifically those who
In June, the apricot tree saggedwith squat fruit that fell splat on the sidewalk. Children jumped for the velvet orbsBy mid-July, all had disappeared.All, except juice stains on concrete. As if no velvet, no fruits,
Editor’s Note: We’re so excited and honored to be publishing this excerpt from Alexandria Peary’s long poem, “The Pforzheim Quartet,” which engages with history and memory through the use of extraordinary language, image, and sound. When we on the poetry team first encountered this excerpt, we were reminded of poet
