Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 52
October 31, 2022
Bones and Ghosts
DAVID MILLS
From my row house mailbox, I fished / an envelope: no address, just “David.” / scrawled. In my room, I read: e-mails // bounced back, calls orphaned. If you’re / alive and don’t want to talk I get it. / Though six hours across the Atlantic / is much farther than six along it. If / need be, I will kneel
From my row house mailbox, I fished / an envelope: no address, just “David.” / scrawled. In my room, I read: e-mails // bounced back, calls orphaned. If you’re / alive and don’t want to talk I get it. / Though six hours across the Atlantic / is much farther than six along it. If / need be, I will kneel
Tsunami Bride
SINDYA BHANOO
As the parakeet-green municipal bus pulled into Cuddalore, Sai held his sign up as high as he could, his forehead burning from the morning sun. He did not want the reporter to miss him. The sign was flimsy, made of two pieces of printer paper taped together, but it was sufficient.
As the parakeet-green municipal bus pulled into Cuddalore, Sai held his sign up as high as he could, his forehead burning from the morning sun. He did not want the reporter to miss him. The sign was flimsy, made of two pieces of printer paper taped together, but it was sufficient.
Lions of the Church
AHMED NAJI
It all began when the new state security officer in town, acting on a tip from a local butcher, called Antar in for questioning. Antar declined the invitation. “I go to no one. He who wants me shall seek me out,” he said to the policeman. The security officer responded with a police wagon.
It all began when the new state security officer in town, acting on a tip from a local butcher, called Antar in for questioning. Antar declined the invitation. “I go to no one. He who wants me shall seek me out,” he said to the policeman. The security officer responded with a police wagon.
Iceberg, Mine
GERARDO SÁMANO CÓRDOVA
We called him Ísjaki. Few knew his real name. I certainly didn’t when I was charged with being his caretaker during his first visit to New York. Ísjaki meant “iceberg” in Iceland, where this man came from. I wrote Ísjaki on a blank sheet of paper—careful to include the accent over the first I.
We called him Ísjaki. Few knew his real name. I certainly didn’t when I was charged with being his caretaker during his first visit to New York. Ísjaki meant “iceberg” in Iceland, where this man came from. I wrote Ísjaki on a blank sheet of paper—careful to include the accent over the first I.
Charcoal
TOMMYE BLOUNT
lit by her fire, I was the scorched / tree Clare West found // direction by; a swiftly drawn arrow / became a drawn hood; an era gone / Hollywood. She must have known / of the impression we’d leave // in parchment her handprints / left here. And here is where // she held the page / in place
lit by her fire, I was the scorched / tree Clare West found // direction by; a swiftly drawn arrow / became a drawn hood; an era gone / Hollywood. She must have known / of the impression we’d leave // in parchment her handprints / left here. And here is where // she held the page / in place
Dream Catcher
LOGAN LANE
She was a child still, curious and borderless, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that she was sewn from the stolen thoughts of the dead. Instead, I told her I wove her out of dreams. I said that when people wake in the morning, their dreams drift out of their bodies and into the sky.
She was a child still, curious and borderless, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that she was sewn from the stolen thoughts of the dead. Instead, I told her I wove her out of dreams. I said that when people wake in the morning, their dreams drift out of their bodies and into the sky.
October 27, 2022
October 2022 Poetry Feature
KEETJE KUIPERS
Out the laundry room window, a swan / dips its head into lake water still / murky from last year’s snow, surfaces // silt roping its neck. Some yellow flutter— / I don’t know its name or even what / it’s called—and then a turkey // I almost miss the fat, dark shadow
Out the laundry room window, a swan / dips its head into lake water still / murky from last year’s snow, surfaces // silt roping its neck. Some yellow flutter— / I don’t know its name or even what / it’s called—and then a turkey // I almost miss the fat, dark shadow
October 26, 2022
Inconvenience Store
SOPHIE DURBIN
Don Quijote makes no attempt to follow the traditional model of neat and unobtrusive conbini; its aisles were bathed in flashing lights and lined with neon signs brandishing sale prices. My head spun as I followed arrows pointing to various products, and I soon abandoned my mission to find face wash, instead pausing every few feet to gawk at gimmicks like teeth wipes and heated eye masks.
Don Quijote makes no attempt to follow the traditional model of neat and unobtrusive conbini; its aisles were bathed in flashing lights and lined with neon signs brandishing sale prices. My head spun as I followed arrows pointing to various products, and I soon abandoned my mission to find face wash, instead pausing every few feet to gawk at gimmicks like teeth wipes and heated eye masks.
October 18, 2022
The Tiger
SARAH WU
When the Tiger slinks around the house, she leaves behind chess sets and violins and dictionaries that swirl above our heads. Her fur disappears from corners and her ink-stained footprints press against the floor, and through these moments we know she is watching us.
When the Tiger slinks around the house, she leaves behind chess sets and violins and dictionaries that swirl above our heads. Her fur disappears from corners and her ink-stained footprints press against the floor, and through these moments we know she is watching us.
October 14, 2022
Podcast: Ellen Doré Watson on “In Which Raging Weather is a Gift”
ELLEN DORÉ WATSON
Unless a poem surprises me when I’m writing it, it's not going to make it. The two things I need from a poem, both as a writer or a reader, are intentionality and surprise.
Unless a poem surprises me when I’m writing it, it's not going to make it. The two things I need from a poem, both as a writer or a reader, are intentionality and surprise.
