Associate Editor Andy Sia: In Stella Wong’s compact poem, an array of transformations is possible. The bird of paradise seems to lift off into the blank space of the enjambment, but in fact exists in proximity to bamboo: “bamboo chairs.” Read as a verb, “chair” offers multiple, even countervailing registers: to preside over, or to …
Associate Editor Kate Jayroe: There’s a wondrous mix of magic, mystery, menace, and play swirling through Bargamian’s poem. As each line culminates toward its final vanishing act one cannot help but fall deeply enchanted by their incantatory, riddle-like charms. Escapology I am a mutant who inherited a predisposition for casual lying. My father was an …