Wee Beastie Inspirations: Issue 13.2

January 17th, 2017

Antonie van Leeuwenhoek first saw the microscopic monsters that the naked eye can’t see, describing the odd creatures as “cavorting, wee beasties.” A barrier had been crossed; the world of flesh and blood and dirt, so tangible around us and within us, was once again enveloped by mystery. The homunculi of our knowledge had come into question, challenged by the microscopic beasts whirling not only in some drops of water, but in all water everywhere. As poets, we ought to keep our eyes sharp for the immense as well as the Lilliputian. Between eye floaters and a bedbug infebeastiestation, some of the contributors to issue 13.2 have focused on the importance of the micro-world that lives in tandem with our own. While we’re always interacting, often unconsciously, with the wee kingdom, these writers focus on the minuscule, seeing in that impossible smallness our own condition as humans.

Claire Hero on “The Intraocular Ocean”: Several years ago, to further my understanding of scientific inquiry, I enrolled in some biology courses. Over and over, when I was first learning to use a microscope, I saw not the cells on the slide but the floaters in my own eye. These floaters seemed like things swimming through my eye, and I started to think of the eye as an “intraocular ocean,” an ocean replete with the strange creatures we find in the deep sea. Working with this metaphor I developed the poem. This poem reflects the writing process as I understand it: one sits down in the dark, plunges a hand into the eye, and writes what emerges from the uncharted waters of the imagination. At the same time, the poem speaks to the violence that creativity and scientific inquiry are capable of in the name of knowledge or art.

Taylor Gorman on “Insect”: This poem came out of a long year that I had. I had five different addresses and moved around a lot in grad school during 2015, mostly due to bad luck. When I finally had a permanent apartment, I found out too late that I had moved into a place that had bedbugs. I threw all my stuff out: the couch, my keyboard, paintings. I sat in my empty apartment and wrote this poem. Though it has little to do with bedbugs themselves, this poem is a direct result of my “giving up” to the disaster of that year: I, for one, welcomed my insect overlords.

What’s Poetry Got to Do With It?: Meditation

January 12th, 2017

Musings by José Angel Araguz

Episode 6: Meditation

In this episode I explore ways in which meditation can apply to the craft of poetry.

Some Preliminary Thoughts

Before getting into the nitty-gritty, however, it’s worth framing my own outlook on meditation as it has developed over the years. First off, meditation is simply being. While there are a great number of apps (I’m using Calm at the moment, but have also worked with Buddhify and Headspace) which provide guided meditations and/or music and soundscapes which add to the experience, what one essentially does in meditation is make the intention to set aside time to exist within their own mind.

Now, while meditation can be done sitting on the floor, in a comfortable chair, sitting cross-legged, it can also be done lying on the floor, on your bed, lying flat or with your knees up, etc. Meditation can also be done by walking, or even listening to music. I wake up every morning and read a few poems aloud; I don’t study or analyze them, I just let them ring out in the air. As can be seen, most activities can become meditative if approached with the intention to engage in them with full attention.

Though some religions do incorporate meditation into their rites, meditation is not a religion. It is not a diet, not a set of principles or a new way of life. There are many privileged, ableist, and potentially triggering materials out there that put pressure and misguided expectations on a practice that should be about not feeling pressure and expectations. Meditation, like poetry, is about setting the intention to go let yourself be in a room simply breathing (or writing down words). Approached this way, both poetry and meditation offer answers to the question of: How does it feel to exist?

Learning from the Pine

Basho_by_Kinkoku_c1820One of the first poets that came to mind when I began to think about this subject is the classical Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Famous for his haiku and travel journals, Basho was also a great teacher. One famous lesson begins with the suggestion to “Learn about the pines from the pine, and about bamboo from the bamboo.” He goes on to say:

One must first of all concentrate one’s thoughts on an object. Once the mind achieves a state of concentration and the space between oneself and the object had disappeared, the essential nature of the object can be perceived. Then express it immediately. If one ponders it, it will vanish from the mind.

This mix of concentration and expression in the face of moments “vanishing” connects to meditation in terms of how hard it is to exist. Meditation is often considered a calm, easy thing. Yet, as soon as you close your eyes, all you sense is chaos: you daydream; your to-do list and responsibilities come immediately to mind; or a past memory surfaces and distracts you. These distractions can happen even on a walking meditation, when you begin to worry and stop noticing the things you pass on your walk. When any of these happen, it is your attention span and energy that vanish. Meditation is engaging directly with this chaos inside, and, for at least five or ten minutes, letting it go.

The small victory of letting yourself take the time to write, to pull out the notebook or open a fresh document and let yourself begin the process of writing requires a similar mix of concentration and letting go. A poem begins with a few words—but which words? Sitting before a blank page can not only leave you stuck, it can also make whatever nerve you had to write vanish. Writing prompts are great tools for writing into a meditative space exactly because they give us a way to begin. With a set of words or a theme, the mind can focus on creating, following the sense of the words.

Revision Mind

That feeling of being stuck before a blank page not knowing where to start can, with meditation, over time be worked into what I like to call “revision mind.” When meditation forces us to exist in the space behind closed eyes or the space of noticing what is in front of us as we walk—noticing and letting it pass, not studying or analyzing—it places us in the same space as when we sit in front of words.

One thing I like to do when revising a poem is to rewrite it by hand. This act places me back into the same silence as when the first draft was written; it also allows me to consider each word again. One line at a time, the poem gets rewritten slowly, and the full range of emotions—from This is brilliant! to Whose idea was it to let me move around words???—is experienced. If I set the intention to not judge the lines and not get hung up on the inadequacies of the poem (which the ego, of course, sees as a reflection of my own inadequacies), I make room for possible changes as well as acceptance.

pine-trees-1209656_960_720We return to our favorite poems by others because of what we find in them, and what we find is often simultaneously familiar and new. Our own poems work in the same manner, and yield possibilities beyond the first few drafts if approached with intention and consideration. It is too easy to seek the reassurance of brilliance or reflection of inadequacy in our own poems; however, a poem doesn’t need that validation, people do. And we owe it to our poems to treat them like poems, to “learn about the pines from the pine,” as someone more brilliant and more adequate than me put it.

Attention

In her contribution to the book A God in the House: Poets Talk About Faith, poet Jane Hirshfield discusses her time in a Buddhist monastery, when she did “nothing but practice Zen.” She goes on to share:

When I returned to poetry…I brought with me two things I now can see would be useful to any young aspiring writer: the monastic model of non-distraction and silence, and the experience of calling oneself into complete attention. The ability to stay in the moment, to investigate immediate existence through my own body and mind, was what I most needed to learn at that point in my life, and to learn to stay within my own experience more fearlessly.

Because of the attention it asks us to pay to the shifts and nuances of how we feel while existing, meditation is a way to become fearless and be able to stay within your own experience. While my thoughts here only begin to explore the connections between meditation and poetry, if nothing else I hope I have established the value of attention in both activities. Attention, which in meditation talk is often termed mindfulness or awareness, is invaluable to poetry. By having us pay attention to words, poems open ways for us to pay attention to the world.

*

For more on Basho’s lesson, go here.

To read the full excerpt from A God in the House, go here.

YouTube Contest Winner

January 11th, 2017

It’s possible Ben regrets his promise to repeat the name of our new YouTube subscriber (selected randomly from the group of new-YouTube-ies) one thousand times. His regret may even be palpable in his half-hour video making good on his pledge. He may even cry for help, or simply cry. He may hit rock bottom and rebound, all the while saying the same name over . . . and over . . . and over. He may grow numb—possibly as numb as the viewer of this half-hour video of him saying the same name over . . . and over . . . and over. Spoiler: he survives. He may smile at the end. You’ll have to watch to see.

CR under New Management

January 10th, 2017

 

Becky Adnot-Haynes

Becky Adnot-Haynes

It’s our pleasure to announce that, as of next week, Becky Adnot-Haynes will be moving into the Managing Editor position here at CR. She’s replacing Nicola Mason, who’ll turn her attention to launching the book-publishing arm of the journal, to be called Acre Books. More soon on Acre. For now, let’s tell you a bit about Becky, who’s been an asset to the mag for many years. She began reading as a volunteer way back in 2009, came on staff in 2012—working as Assistant Editor, then Associate Editor, in our snug little office—and while earning her PhD in fiction published The Year of Perfect Happiness in 2014 (winner of The Katherine Anne Porter Prize in Short Fiction). After graduation, Becky worked in advertising, honing her writing and editing skills. Now she returns to 369 McMicken Hall to champion literature once more. When we forced her to make a statement, she had this to say about her “dream job”:

“The Cincinnati Review is one of the most awesome literary magazines around, and I’m honored to join its ranks. I look forward to upholding the magazine’s commitment to publishing fresh, diamond-sharp prose and poetry, and to working with the staff to continue to usher it forward. Thanks, CR, for having me!”

 

Hink Pink Answer Key

January 10th, 2017

Thanks to those who took a stab at solving our holiday hink pink puzzle. The answers await below:

  • Ornamental cap for the gland that secretes melatonin (hinkily pinkily): Pineal finial
  • Very poor job, colloquially, of hurling a carnival’s live-animal swallower (hinky pinky): Weak-sauce geek toss
  • Barmier chortling (hinky pinky): Dafter laughter
  • Wally Cleaver’s failed attempt to pass himself off as author of the Cultural Revolution (hinkily pinkily): Tony Dow’s phony Mao
  • Maltese Falcon actor’s anecdote about a Yankee shortstop (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Peter Lorre’s Jeter story
  • Government payout after a Dadaist injured himself while hoisting a urinal in the British Museum? (hinky pinky): Duchamp’s loo comp
  • Hannibal native’s stint as Colombian rebels’ jefe (hinky pinky): Mark Twain’s FARC reign
  • Ingenious bug bedeviling Hannah Montana (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Miley Cyrus’ wily virus
  • Literary whaler’s dig at a celebrity chef (hinky pinky): Ahab’s Flay jab
  • Feud between a pop icon and the author of Executioner’s Song (hinkily pinkily): Taylor Swift-Mailer rift
  • Prison for promiscuous bovines (hinky pinky): Loose cow hoosegow
  • Missile-riding actor, give a quick read to Bleak House! (hinkily pinkily): Slim Pickens, skim Dickens!
  • Verbal puzzle for Whedoniacs (hinky pinky): Joss nerd crossword
  • Germanic cube of rebaked bread (hinky pinky): Teuton crouton
  • Worldwide internet community clobbers Louisiana senator for his sex-play in a funeral-home vehicle (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Twitterverse whomps Vitter hearse romps
  • Japanese general’s icy treat (hinky pinky): Tojo’s froyo
  • Depression-era president’s ice-cream-pastel blinds (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Herbert Hoover’s sherbet louvers
  • Barney Fife’s French witticisms? (hinky pinky): Don Knotts’ bon mots
  • Would-be presidential assassin Fromme’s luau torch (hinky pinky): Squeaky’s tiki
  • Maurice Gibb in Melanesia (hinky pinky—all rhyme): Fiji BeeGee
  • Mediterranean condiment is in favor of getting a Brazilian (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Tahini backs bikini wax
  • Cartoon superhero rodent’s mercurial marital partner (hinkily pinkily): Mighty Mouse’s flighty spouse
  • Babylonian legal code namesake’s sidelight of experimenting with ionizing radiation (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Hammurabi’s gamma hobby
  • Name for the occasion when a Fascist-friendly poet sprang for diet citrus soft drinks for all (hinkily pinkily–and with a slight rhyme cheat): Ezra Pound’s Fresca round
  • Headline: Internet rumor clearinghouse confirms that the Vatican is now a nuclear power (hinkily pinkily): com: “Pope’s got bomb”
  • Campus jail in Blacksburg (hinky pinky): Hokie Pokey
  • Psychiatrist of 20th-century American pragmatist philosopher Richard grabs a wee nap (hinkily pinkily): Rorty shrink’s forty winks
  • Policy analyst’s straightened Afro (hink pink): Wonk conk
  • Fictive evangelist’s larder (hinky pinky): Gantry’s pantrymanatee1
  • Little kitchen corner where the microscope’s inventor keeps his Ray Lewis jersey (hinkily pinkily): Leeuwenhoek’s Raven nook
  • Sea herbivore’s self-regard (hinkily pinkily): Manatee’s vanity
  • 18th/19th-century German polymath’s state of Indian seclusion (hinky pinky): Goethe’s purdah
  • Classic TV kid’s dim captor (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Opie Taylor’s dopey jailor
  • Elizabeth Bennet’s Bollywood suitor (hinky pinky): Farsi Darcy
  • Apathetic island race of mythology’s welcoming committee for Michelle Obama (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Lotus-Eaters’ FLOTUS greeters
  • English diarist’s broken-down jalopies (hink pink): Pepys’ jeeps
  • Jewel-encrusted aileron (hink pink): Wing bling
  • Roman magistrate’s cute car (hinky pinky): Pliny’s Mini
  • Bumbling inspector’s dowry (hinky pinky): Clouseau trousseau
  • Compulsively stockpilin’ hatcheter (hinky pinky): Hoardin’ Borden
  • Recently retired Laker great’s smoothie-shop misadventure (hinkily pinkily): Black Mamba’s wack Jamba
  • Terrible product idea: Small beanbag with glue on its underside (hinkily pinkily): tacky-back hacky sack
  • What a manager (Domo arigato, sir!) had to do in 1983 when an arena-rock band jonesed for a crispy candy bar but none were available (hinky pinky, but all rhyme): Nix Styx’ Twix fix
  • Singer/Urban Cowboy club-owner’s shuddering fear of love bites (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Mickey Gilley’s hickey willies
  • Hootenanny featuring the Supremes (hinky pinky): Motown hoedown
  • Middle Brady sis is tryin’ for an inhalation high and a fiber-filled breakfast at the same time (hinkily pinkily): Jan huffin’ bran muffin
  • Post-dinger celebration failed to connect with Forrest (hinky pinky): Fist bump missed Gump
  • Oddball list: Toothy present-day fish, toothy squeaky-clean songstress/star of the 1950s, toothy prehistoric meat-devourer (hinklediddledoo pinklediddledoo): Piranha, Doris, Tyrannosaurus
  • Distaff soccer great’s Sorento fraud (hinkily pinkily): Mia’s Kia
  • “Firework” diva’s milking operation, staffed by pirates (hinkily pinkily): Katey Perry’s matey dairy
  • Actor/Soulquarians’ rapper idly draws instant dorm-pasta (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Common doodles Ramen noodles
  • Polka satirist quailed before 2001 computer (hinky pinky): Weird Al feared Hal
  • World’s biggest-selling writer’s ululation on a workers’ holiday (hinklediddle pinklediddle): K. Rowling’s May Day howling
  • Underwood canned-meat-sponsored pageant winner’s unkempt Dracula creator, familiarly (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Miss Deviled Ham’s disheveled Bram
  • Outlaw Country icon’s verbal eruptions about a certain Grizzly Mama (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Waylon Jennings’ Palin ventings
  • A gathering of ten devout yellow henchmen (hinky pinky): Minion minyan
  • Please outlaw Common Sense pamphleteer Tom’s sexist explications! (hinky pinky): Ban Paine’s mansplains!
  • What’s seen when a portly officer’s shirt rides up while securing an arrestee (hinkily pinkily): Cuffin’ cop’s muffin top
  • Plow inherited by John Scopes’ defense lawyer (hinklediddle pinklediddle): Clarence Darrow’s parents’ harrow
  • Beyonce’s husband upchucks country short-shorts (hinkily pinkily): Jay Z pukes Daisy Dukes

We interrupt our holiday hiatus . . .

December 27th, 2016

. . . for a bit of  hinky (un)fun.

So you didn’t think 2016 could suck any more? Well, it’s time for another round of the tortures of the damned—our holiday round of hink pinks. For background and another set of these puzzles, see our August contest.

Again, as stolen from the master, Dylan Hicks of The Paris Review, a definition and rules: “Hink pink is a word game in which synonyms, circumlocution, and micronarratives provide clues for rhyming phrases. In the standard explanatory example, an ‘overweight feline’ is a ‘fat cat.’ Hink pinks on that babyish level aspire to lend vocabulary building an air of fun, but more sophisticated puzzles are sometimes mulled over on road trips, in trenches, and in other settings where boredom and tension might be mellowed, to paraphrase Dryden, by the dull sweets of rhyme. . . . A puzzle of disyllabic components is a hinky pinky, followed with decreasing dignity by hinkily pinkilies, hinklediddle pinklediddles, and hinklediddledoo pinklediddledoos. Even with longer puzzles, however, the goal, almost a mandate, is for each syllable to rhyme perfectly, though this perfection might depend on idiosyncratic stress.”

So—“Candle heist” (hinky pinky) would be “Taper caper.”

“First-year in a painterly inferno” (hink pink) would be “Bosch frosh.” 

“Fawlty player’s sternutation” (hink pink) would be “Cleese sneeze.”

“Multitalented Jackson has mastered spotted Pacific salmon, too” (hinky pinky) might yield “Bo knows cohoes.”

Rhymes must generally be perfect, with the exception that an s—usually possessive—is allowed at the dead center. For example, “Undomesticated Donald’s Niagara plunge” would presumably be “Feral Trump’s barrel jump.”

Below are another sixty. As always, the first two people to submit forty correct answers get either a one-year subscription or a one-year extension of subscription . . . plus a free copy of the first title from our brand-new publishing imprint, Acre Books, Very Angry Baby: The Anthology—due this spring.

  • Ornamental cap for the gland that secretes melatonin (hinkily pinkily)
  • Very poor job, colloquially, of hurling a carnival’s live-animal swallower (hinky pinky)
  • Barmier chortling (hinky pinky)
  • Wally Cleaver’s failed attempt to pass himself off as author of the Cultural Revolution (hinkily pinkily)
  • Maltese Falcon actor’s anecdote about a Yankee shortstop (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Government payout after a Dadaist injured himself while hoisting a urinal in the British Museum? (hinky pinky)
  • Hannibal native’s stint as Colombian rebels’ jefe (hinky pinky)
  • Ingenious bug bedeviling Hannah Montana (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Literary whaler’s dig at a celebrity chef (hinky pinky)
  • Feud between a pop icon and the author of Executioner’s Song (hinkily pinkily)
  • Prison for promiscuous bovines (hinky pinky)
  • Missile-riding actor, give a quick read to Bleak House! (hinkily pinkily)
  • Verbal puzzle for Whedoniacs (hinky pinky)
  • Germanic cube of rebaked bread (hinky pinky)
  • Worldwide internet community clobbers Louisiana senator for his sex-play in a funeral-home vehicle (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Japanese general’s icy treat (hinky pinky)
  • Depression-era president’s ice-cream-pastel blinds (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Barney Fife’s French witticisms? (hinky pinky)
  • Would-be presidential assassin Fromme’s luau torch (hinky pinky)
  • Maurice Gibb in Melanesia (hinky pinky—all rhyme)
  • Mediterranean condiment is in favor of getting a Brazilian (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Cartoon superhero rodent’s mercurial marital partner (hinkily pinkily)
  • Babylonian legal code namesake’s sidelight of experimenting with ionizing radiation (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Name for the occasion when a Fascist-friendly poet sprang for diet citrus soft drinks for all (hinkily pinkily–and with a slight rhyme cheat)
  • Headline: Internet rumor clearinghouse confirms that the Vatican is now a nuclear power (hinkily pinkily)
  • Campus jail in Blacksburg (hinky pinky)
  • Psychiatrist of 20th-century American pragmatist philosopher Richard grabs a wee nap (hinkily pinkily)
  • Policy analyst’s straightened Afro (hink pink)
  • Fictive evangelist’s larder (hinky pinky)
  • Little kitchen corner where the microscope’s inventor keeps his Ray Lewis jersey (hinkily pinkily)
  • Sea herbivore’s self-regard (hinkily pinkily)
  • 18th/19th-century German polymath’s state of Indian seclusion (hinky pinky)
  • Classic TV kid’s dim captor (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Liza Bennet’s Bollywood suitor (hinky pinky)
  • Apathetic island race of mythology’s welcoming committee for Michelle Obama (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • English diarist’s broken-down jalopies (hink pink)
  • Jewel-encrusted aileron (hink pink)
  • Roman magistrate’s cute car (hinky pinky)
  • Bumbling inspector’s dowry (hinky pinky)
  • Compulsively stockpilin’ hatcheter (hinky pinky)
  • Recently retired Laker great’s smoothie-shop misadventure (hinkily pinkily)
  • Terrible product idea: Small beanbag with glue on its underside (hinkily pinkily)
  • What a manager (Domo arigato, sir!) had to do in 1983 when an arena-rock band jonesed for a crispy candy bar but none were available (hinky pinky, but all rhyme)
  • Singer/Urban Cowboy club-owner’s shuddering fear of love bites (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Hootenanny featuring the Supremes (hinky pinky)
  • Middle Brady sis is tryin’ for an inhalation high and a fiber-filled breakfast at the same time (hinkily pinkily)
  • Post-dinger celebration failed to connect with Forrest (hinky pinky)
  • Oddball list: Toothy present-day fish, toothy squeaky-clean songstress/star of the 1950s, toothy prehistoric meat-devourer (hinklediddledoo pinklediddledoo)
  • Distaff soccer great’s Sorento fraud (hinkily pinkily)
  • “Firework” diva’s milking operation, staffed by pirates (hinkily pinkily)
  • Actor/Soulquarians’ rapper idly draws instant dorm-pasta (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Polka satirist quailed before 2001 computer (hinky pinky)
  • World’s biggest-selling writer’s ululation on a workers’ holiday (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Underwood canned-meat-sponsored pageant winner’s unkempt Dracula creator, familiarly (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Outlaw Country icon’s verbal eruptions about a certain Grizzly Mama (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • A gathering of ten devout yellow henchmen (hinky pinky)
  • Please outlaw Common Sense pamphleteer Tom’s sexist explications! (hinky pinky)
  • What’s seen when a portly officer’s shirt rides up while securing an arrestee (hinkily pinkily)
  • Plow inherited by John Scopes’ defense lawyer (hinklediddle pinklediddle)
  • Beyonce’s husband upchucks country short-shorts (hinkily pinkily)

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December 15th, 2016

An offer you *could* refuse . . . but why?

Wet books, bagel shrines, talking pants, etc.

December 9th, 2016

We present the next installment of Words Likely to Be Misused or Confused! This episode stars, not only Ben Dudley, but Ben’s pants, Ben’s shirt, as well as the hand—not to mention the bagel—of Bix Griffith.

Special Xmas Offer!

December 7th, 2016

One thing we have in common with Santa: we like to reward you for being good.

The CR 13.2 Cento Contest!

December 5th, 2016

cento-poemJosé Angel Araguz: Time again for another cento contest celebrating the release of our latest issue!

The cento is a collage form in which a poem is composed entirely of lines from other poems. It can be an homage to the originals, a subversive twist, or just a fun game. Contemporary examples of the form include “The Dong with the Luminous Nose” by John Ashbery and “Wolf Cento” by Simone Muench.

As in our previous post, I’ve gone ahead a composed a cento poem based on last lines pulled from 13.2 (with punctuation added here and there) in celebration of the new issue. We encourage you to compose your own 13.2 cento and post it on our blog. We’ll float a free issue to creators of the strongest three (either gift for a friend or added to your current subscription). Pro tips: 1. Remember to cite the authors you quote from the issue; 2. enjambment is your friend!

Here. Take it all.

cento sonnet, written with last lines drawn from The Cincinnati Review, issue 13.2

Stand in bareness after the plunging hoofs are gone
beside the body, talking to it.
No more swallowing blood and coughing up trenzas,
ashamed to be ashamed.

Pollution of the heart, yearning,
until the visions open, until the visions bleed.
I’ll sing myself hoarse with prayers of data and space, our soundless bell,
night after night. You know my name, remember?

The hands that fed me
across the dusky skies and spelled out my silent shame
killed it easily, that stag with horns of gold,
and woke finding no God to whom to pray.

About the time: It’s passing so quickly.
I don’t know what to do with my heart.

*

[sources, in order: Alex Lemon (title), Joseph Zaccardi, Okwudili Nebeolisa, Eduardo Martinez-Leyva, Carina del Valle Schorske, Tuvia Ruebner, Claire Hero, Jessica Rae Bergamino, Todd Hearon, Josh Kalscheur, Jim Daniels, Martha Silano, Marilyn Nelson, David O’Connell, Charlotte Muzzi]