As hollow as a gutted fish, a hole in the sand, a cistern cracked along the seam— There is no filling such emptiness. And yet— Stitch it shut. Pour and pour, if you wish. Wish and wish, but it’s wasted— Water carried to the garden in your cupped palms. Might as well seal an ember …
In 2011, Ben Dudley—then a student in Michael Griffith’s writing workshop—climbed through the window that led to the tunnel that serpentined to the cavern that narrowed into a smaller cavern (more of a crawlspace, really) into which thrust the stalagmite that housed, about three-quarters of the way down (or up, depending on your spatial orientation), …
We here at The Cincinnati Review are pleased to announce our Pushcart Prize nominations. As always, it was difficult narrowing to just six pieces from the wonderful work in our 2016 issues. We continue to be impressed by the high quality of submissions, and feel honored for the opportunity to publish your work. Congratulations to …
What was done was done in our names; we ourselves would never have done what was done to anyone. We wanted to be good, polite, obedient, fun, wanted only not to ever ask What have we done? And yet, in our names, what was done was done. See more poems from Issue 15.1 by …
As a followup to Tuesday’s video of Mary Kaiser reading “He Dreams a Mother,” we present a performance of the score that was inspired by the poem. Written by composer David Clay Mettens, the piece—set for soprano, flute, clarinet, viola, cello, piano, and a range of percussion—was performed live by All of the Above at …
What do we do with memory? As far as our writers are concerned, they certainly aren’t going to take contributor Todd Hearon’s comic advice: “Forget it.” Instead, these 13.2 contributors’ poems explore how memory connects us with the people we’ve lost and with former versions of ourselves, trapping us as well as giving us solace. …
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 …
Today on Cincinnati RevYouTube, we present Mary Kaiser reading “He Dreams a Mother.” In the words of poetry editor Don Bogen, this piece “is typical of the inventive and intimate ways Mary’s poems engage history. . . . In the summer 2007 issue we published four poems from a book she was doing on the …
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 …