“Jesus Said,” a 15-poem sequence by alum Patrick Donnelly (poetry, ’03) appears at Mudlark:

Jesus said to me Did you mean

to draw some moral
from your own life, how you found love

so late? How though you weren’t patient,
weren’t kind, in pursuit were ruthless,

it was given to you anyway? Though
that story’s not done, not proven,

Continue reading online…

Note: Five poems from the sequence originally appeared in the American Poetry Review; the whole sequence will appear again in The Orison Anthology, 2017, and the first poem of the sequence will be issued as a letterpress printed broadside from the Center for Book Arts in New York City, in connection with a reading there, fall 2016.

Audio interviews and poems by alum Kerrin McCadden (poetry, ’14) are featured at Fishouse Poetry. Following is an excerpt from the poem “The Dead”:

They worry I won’t keep the graves when they’re gone.
See my mother brushing off her hands

at her mother’s grave, surveying lots,
approving and disapproving care and neglect,

my father deep in thought. The trees above
them are the gods of Massachusetts, big-

Continue reading online. An interview with Kerrin about her debut collection Landscape with Plywood Silhouettes is also up at Ploughshares’ blog: http://blog.pshares.org/index.php/the-poems-toggle-between-wreckages-an-interview-with-kerrin-mccadden/.

A Piece of Sky, A Grain of Rice: A Memoir in Four Meditations by alum Christine Hale (fiction, ’96) is out now from Apprentice House Press. The following is an excerpt:

The grass surrounding the retreat house stands waist-high, an entire spring’s lush growth left uncut through the thirty days of Saga Dawa, the holy month of the Buddha’s enlightenment. To kill or even to disturb the hordes of sentient beings living on and inside and beneath the tangle would be inauspicious in this season.

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Two poems by alum Noah Stetzer (poetry, ’14) appear at Tinderbox Poetry:

On Watching Old Movies

Three poems by alum Jennifer Givhan (poetry, ’15) appear at Cultural Weekly:

Machine for Second Chances

Here we’ve tried blessing
the trauma, the fire to our skin

in which I’ve awoken crying who held the matches
into the matches of my hands.

What can I tell you? Love
held an iron’s cord to our necks, balanced

Continue reading online…