Rose Ausländer, Jane Roe, & Me
Much remains to be said, though our garden lies / buried . . .
Much remains to be said, though our garden lies / buried . . .
On the loop ascending the templed
mesa you whisper the poem
There was a line between the corner of the sky
and the nowhere else.
All night I listened, receiver at my ear, to mostly
underwater noises, though I might have caught a passing voice
Saba Keramati’s debut collection of poetry Self-Mythology (University of Arkansas Press, 2024) shatters the mirror and looks at the fragmented self through a myriad of lenses. The poems in this …
In striving towards anarchy, I had to first follow the rules. I had to find my ancestors. Having found no manifesto, no guidebook, I knelt before poets.
The poet is energized by a landscape whose nettles, paths, and waterways he likewise channels, or conducts, into words.
We are delighted to feature our 2024 James Welch Prize winners and finalists in our online folio.
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