CandorFrom the Print
It’s not / a functional requirement, just / an interest, something that takes / the edge off, though you pay it back / in other, sharper edges…
The Cosmology of Serialized Television
How does the most acclaimed show on television end up pulling a high school writing trick of injecting a few famous lines to anoint itself in seriousness and relevance?
Letters from Incarcerated Writers
Testimonies on public misconceptions of life in prison, what goes underreported in the media, and how the system runs counter to rehabilitation.
Review: László Krasznahorkai’s "Seiobo There Below"From the Print
Hell is oneself. Or, if you like, Hell is other people. Either way, Hell’s Modernist vanguard—let’s say Beckett, Sartre, and Eliot—moiled in darkness long enough to recover the bad news and bring it to daylight…
LIVE from the NYPL: Fitzgerald, Ashbery, Donnelly
…I think it speaks so well to our moment, because we are so inundated with different types of culture, and this idea that we should be hierarchically stacking them or appropriately engaging with them at certain moments or not—I think that’s over, that’s passé, and John’s work is much more fluid, and then you realize all the experimental and progressive work in poetry is that way, too…
Protestant Work Ethic: A Thanksgiving Tale
But how can I forget that harrowing Thanksgiving in Houston, Texas two years ago, my Uncle Monk, the successful lawyer, stumbling up to me before Thanksgiving dinner, begging conspiratorially, breath reeking of vodka, “Where can I get some blow?”
gloomerangFrom the Print
boomgloomerang, boomgloomerang, boomboomcheroo, / gloom never skips, has no blood and no shoes…
Editor’s Epilogue: Bend SinisterFrom the Print
“Gloomerang” is as playful a poem about despair as you are likely to read: compulsively playful, in a way that might be the cure and might be the cause. It takes its start from the crossing of Bumerang, German (or is it Australian?) for boomerang, and Kummer, for sorrow…
Where We All Slowly DieFrom the Print
More importantly though, they lack that one vital piece of knowledge: how to lift a dead body. How, then, are they any different from that outstretched body cooling motionless before them?
New Poetry Round-Up: Seshadri, Lauterbach, O’BrienFrom the Print
Ann Lauterbach is an experimental poet in the best sense of the word. Erudite yet curious, readable yet uncompromising, her poetry explores the foggy terrain between self-expression and social justice…