A poem by alum Henry Kearney, IV (poetry, ’08) appears at The Collagist:
Blood where it should not be is sometimes all
we know of God, how he walks bent among us
carrying his knives hidden, but only half so.
Once on a muddy river a boy pulled catfish into the boat
two at a time. His father, de-hooking and baiting,
cut his thumb on an unforgiving fin as,
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A poem by alum Leslie Contreras Schwartz (poetry, ’11) appears in Storyscape:
Let her tunnel
through the world
like God, bare-faced,
burrowing through
the heated earth
steamed with suffocations
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Jean Cocteau’s prose poem “Seul” is translated by alum Mary-Sherman Willis (poetry, ’05) for Waxwing:
“Seoul”
Jean Cocteau
Seul debout. Seul assis. Seul couché. Seul sur the gril. Seul écartelé par les chevaux de labour dont il ne voyait que les croupes. Seul pendu et son sperme devint mandragore. Seul dans la vitesse qui n’est
“Alone”
Alone standing. Alone sitting. Alone lying down. Alone on the grille. Alone drawn and quartered by workhorses, seeing only their rumps. Alone hanging, ejaculating a mandrake. Alone in the quickness that isn’t
Read the entire original poem and translation online…
An essay by alum Jynne Dilling (poetry, ’06) appears in The New York Times:
The ancient Romans believed in generous vacations: They took sightseeing tours for two to five years at a time. In more recent centuries, Europeans of means and faint constitutions spent multiple months languishing at spas. Even Jesus withdrew for 40 days and 40 nights to find some peace and quiet in the desert. Yet so many of us today — I’m speaking of those fortunate enough to have the resources and the vacation days — remain slavishly attached to our 24/7 connectivity and take only a week at a time, maybe two!, off work.
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An interview with and poems by alum Jayne Benjulian (poetry, ’13) appear at Shadowgraph Quarterly:
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A poem by alum John Minczeski (poetry, ’90) appears at Shadowgraph Quarterly:
It was like the distant harps of angels,
A filtrate of furnace and towels
I’d used to wipe up the dog’s manifest
Destiny. It was a flag,
A minor rearrangement of molecules.
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A poem by alum Lesley Valdes (poetry, ’15) appears at Shadowgraph Quarterly:
I saw them again.
I thought it was a dream.
Then I remembered yesterday
at Las Cruces, where I get the avocado
and cilantro, where they never mind the dog.
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A flash fiction piece by alum Adam Jernigan (fiction, ’15) appears at Shadowgraph Quarterly:
She did try. But the Jew died anyway. She never knew his name, never asked, just spoke in the little broken German she’d learned. Take. Move. Eat. Bucket. Blanket. No…
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Two poems by alum Rosalynde Vas Dias (poetry, ’06) appear at District Lit:
Found
Of course I scrabbled around the tail of the car
scavenging the marbles off the parking lot.
And then corralled them on the countertop
in a rubber band off some broccoli or something.
And I looked at them tonight—cat’s eyes. Things
turn up. If you think about them long enough
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Two poems by alum Nathan McClain (poetry, ’13) appear at District Lit:
Love Don’t Live Here Anymore
She thought she was alone. My father had left her. She’d hum in the kitchen— she thought she was alone— her song the sound a needle makes lapping
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