Often the Dying Ask for a Map
By Poetry Issue 112
I went out to my car and brought back my old, / frayed road map of Kansas, and she followed / the unfolding as if it in itself were a miracle
Read MoreMy Mother, on Horseback, in a Blizzard
By Poetry Issue 112
She has lived / six years on planet earth, and like other / children of the storm has been advised, The horse will bring you home.
Read MoreIntroduce a Catfish
By Poetry Issue 112
watch it… skim the floor / with its mouth / like a child looking / up to the lord
Read MoreBess Utley (Age Eighty-Five) Recalls That, in Fact, She Was the One Who Shot Disfarmer’s Self-Portrait
By Poetry Issue 112
in the photo I had taken of him you can see how Mike’s face had gone and went
Read MoreGnostic Ironies: New Poetry by Nathaniel Mackey and Fanny Howe
By Culture Issue 112
Like Mackey, [Howe] is forced to interpret the historical recurrence of evil as cruelly fated; human beings are the unwitting playthings of what she calls, in Manimal Woe, “the mystery of repetition.”
Read MorePsalm acrostic where we huddle for warmth
By Poetry Issue 112
They’re installing blue lights in the laundromat bathroom. / Harder to find a vein that way, but the needle keeps / yearning into the body
Read MoreThe end of hermeneutics
By Poetry Issue 112
Never did I think to thank whoever painted them— / give me horses, and I’ll thank the horses.
Read MoreCrescent
By Poetry Issue 112
This earth, our only / This four cornered honeycomb / Flooded with nectar
Read MoreNude Nuns with Big Guns
By Poetry Issue 112
how much labor, / exactly, to prepare a place adequate for God?
Read MoreAmerican Contrapasso: The Kingdoms Are Always Near
By Culture Issue 112
One can almost hear T.S. Eliot, the native Missourian in his self-imposed exile from America, looking out over these rust belts and muttering, “I had not thought that globalism had undone so many.”
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