Camp Meeting

By Marilyn Nelson Poetry

Old Saybrook, Connecticut, April 1827 Wealthy Ann, Ruhama, Othelia, Harriet, Hipsey, and I took the ferry to the big camp meeting in Old Saybrook, where ten famous preachers took turns exhorting us to find Jesus and to serve him by serving each other. The crowd swarmed like ants taking breadcrumbs home. Wealthy Ann said smelling…

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A Bridge to Job

By Adonis Poetry

A. The Moroccan Quarter, Jerusalem¹   Will that museum, the Museum of the Wailing Wall, ever welcome a swallow, or shake the hand of the Mediterranean, _________________as Cadmus and Ulysses did? Will it ever bring a woman back to life, the woman Europe was named after? Peace unto you, human steps, _________________you have become an…

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What about God?

By Richard Chess Poetry

Why Believe in God? Over the past few years, the Image staff contemplated assembling a symposium based on this simple problem. But we hesitated. Should we pose such a disarmingly straightforward question to artists and writers, who tend to shun the explicit and the rational? Or were we hesitating because the question itself made us…

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Web Exclusive: A Conversation with Nicholas Samaras

By Mary Kenagy Mitchell Interview

The summer issue of Image includes four poems by Nicholas Samaras, one of which was influenced by Michael Sitaras’ conceptual art project, Sacred Air. All poems are part of his work on a book of poems in response to the biblical Psalms. We asked Nicholas how these poems began.   Image: You’ve been working on…

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Prayer for the Spirits of Montreal

By Mark Rudman Essay

For Armand and Ros de Mestral 1 Like many great cities Montreal is on a river. But the Saint Lawrence is not what divides it. We stay in the heights. I don’t have to leave the garret atop this three-story house on Thornhill in order to transcend. The view contains immensity, sun easy on the…

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The Tragic Sense of Life

By Gregory Wolfe Essay

WHEN I first arrived at Oxford University in the early 1980s to pursue graduate work, I was all swagger on the outside, but that was to conceal the soft center of terror within. I had gone from being a big man on a small Midwestern campus situated between two cornfields to a nobody at an…

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The King’s Great Matter …and Ours

By Gregory Wolfe Essay

THE ROYAL SOAP OPERA that is the life and reign of Henry VIII evokes endless fascination both in the realms of scholarship and the popular imagination. Erudite tomes heavy with footnotes, racy novels the size of toaster ovens, and sumptuously staged television miniseries pour forth in a steady stream. And what’s not to like? For…

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By Katherine Soniat Poetry

That evening she painted her nails metallic rose, placed the opal on her finger, and walked down the block to a party in the moss garden. A friend held her hand, getting involved with the milky luminescence of the ring. Before long he was telling her how his uncle loved to float down the river…

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The Wasp on Weddings

By Katy Didden Poetry

Wasp, genus hymenopterae Hymenaeus, the god of weddings These days we gods are diminished things, black winged. I float like the infinitesimal hesitation, the unheard breath after I: “I wasp will.” “I wasp do.” I am the sadness shadowing the speeches of fathers: “Now she’s wasp elegant, wasp a woman.” I’m the one hovering over…

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Before Entering

By Jeanine Hathaway Poetry

—five—six—seven—eight, and one— The dancers drum onstage from the wings where they were before the downbeat, that prehistoric moment, bandaged and flinching, calloused, split, grinning—the tick-swish of soles on bare wood; their presence shifts how light leaps off the watch of the ex-nun’s date. Such sound bodies. Their backs, extraordinary overlaps of muscle bound to…

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