Reading by J. Raymond Bennett 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
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
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
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
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
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
Kraków, Lesser Poland (Małopolska), Poland | Photo: Alexander Zvir 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
My grandmother hid in a hole in Nagoya. My grandfather was a soldier in China.
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
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
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
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.
