for Gary Snyder Come out the brake into the face of the hill—the full spill of sunglare hazes dust into air arcades & down -drift. A scattering of snap- dragons points up. Seven thousand feet, & cattle low in the field, steam things amidst a morning veil, a cloud liquefying upon their backs. This …
Leonard hadn’t seen his only child since the night ten years ago when he pulled her out of a flaming car. His wife had been dead for a week and he’d been tired for years, but as Leonard pulled Leslie from the fire, he felt strong. He could barely remember that feeling now, any more …
—yes;some of us believed his speech could quell the sea just by reaching out palms-out, guiding tides, a la Moses the Mad. And as if His hands held up to the water, then, were like magnets repelling other, like magnets, He conquered the storm with magic, others of us said, if looked at more closely, …
My beast made of gold is my vocation; it walks with me and makes a peaceable sound. It has no wings and it has no clay. I never touch it, if I can help it—though sometimes, knocked roughly, I brush it by accident. That is when the pain comes and the great poems cover their …
By the time we’d built the hand- rail, the hand had vanished— but still there was a sky to rail at. See more poems from Andrea Cohen by purchasing Issue 14.2 in our online store. Digital copies only $5.
In 1985 statues across Ireland began to move. On Valentine’s Day, in the village of Asdee, seven-year-old Elizabeth Flynn was saying Hail Marys when a statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus beckoned her with a curled finger. The Blessed Mother followed suit. When Elizabeth called to her sisters to tell them what she’d seen, …
A wailing begins at the registration window, a high-pitched adult voice, male, the elemental timbre an unmistakable keening of fear and pain. Even before I see him, I think of the purity of a baby’s cry and, also, that it is unfair to compare a man to a baby. I think too how rare it …
I had hoped that I could make art after having a baby but now understand the temporary impossibility of this goal. My eight-month-old son Mauricio lies before me in his crib, finally sleeping following the “fade” method, a questionable aid. The scent of milk perfumes my life. My mind fills with visions of his infinitesimal …
I accept the position in spring. When they call, they tell me I was the unanimous vote. It was you or no one, the department chair says. And no one didn’t want the position, she adds, and laughs. Okay, I say, then sign the papers, graduate with my doctorate, move across the country. Okay, I …
I. It could be snow, the way it floats, or ash from ancient volcanoes awake and exploding. But instead it’s seeds wrapped in something like down, released by the thousands from cottonwood trees. If they land near water they grow but mostly they don’t. The sun starts to set and the air turns the color …
Search
You don't have credit card details available. You will be redirected to update payment method page. Click OK to continue.
