2005 — Vol. 12, No. 1. This issue contains new work by 67 poets, including Armando Basulto, Joseph Bathanti, Cathy Smith Bowers, Cid Corman, Robert Creeley, Alvaro Garcia, Jonathan Greene, Philip Lamantia, Robert Nazarene, James Norcliffe, Simon Perchik, Dan Stryk, Virgil Suarez, E. E. Sule, Hsien Min Toh, Michael White, and many others. There are several special features, including tributes to the late Cid Corman and Robert Creeley, a last interview with Philip Lamantia, Andre Breton’s first Manifesto of Surrealism (1924), with reviews of new books by Jonathan Williams, Adrienne Rich, Marilyn Kallet, Diane Gilliam Fisher, Jane Mayhall, Patrick Bizzaro, Nancy Tripp King, Yvan and Claire Goll, and Gearóid MacLochlainn.
A Review of Patrick Bizarro's Every Insomniac Has a Story To Tell Every Insomniac Has a Story To Tell: Poems by Patrick Bizarro. Greenville: Independent Press, 2004. 74 pages. ISBN: [...]
A Review of New Books by Cathy Smith Bowers, Marilyn Kallet, Diane Gilliam Fisher, and Jane Mayhall A Book of Minutes by Cathy Smith Bowers. Oak Ridge, TN: Iris Press, 2004. 81 pp. $13 paper. [...]
A Review of Jonathan Williams' Jubilant Thicket and Adrienne Rich's The School Among the Ruins by Jonathan Williams, Copper Canyon Press, Port Townsend, Washington, 2005, 314 pages, ISBN: [...]
At three a boy came down a hill on his bike. He looked down to see you carved in his left thigh. There were horses there, five bands together, valleyed, bathing in red ponds. He couldn’t feel [...]
Blur of swings against the infant sky, then brick, then sky again: two chains and a seat twisting to helix and unwinding so high above the restraining bar, to jerk and plummet back, a slat hung [...]
Plumed like Bucephalus, his yellow teeth piano keys, his massive haunches missile launchers, he hauls the artillery of thrill across the practice grounds that shake beneath his too-familiar [...]
When I answered my father, “A ball of ice, dust, and gas orbiting the sun elliptically,” he was most my father then— he 40, me 9 and momentarily hooked at perigee: he knew I was close but that [...]
In a family loyal to the ghost of our home state, there’s always the renegade cousin. Old aunt who retreats at Christmas. The turncoat niece. Infantries of nephews threatening to secede. And then [...]
Where pasture slopes to river, something that is almost light rises and sheets into air. Charley Morton’s cows wade and emerge glistening with it. They are transformed though I can’t say how. [...]
At eighty she is almost always in pain. Each night she feels the small bones of her back like fish in black water, twisting and blind at the end of her nerves. Some nights she falls into [...]