Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 56
August 3, 2022
Churched
JESS RICHARDS
Stained light shines on breath-less angels / who occupy a stone heaven-on-earth without living for touch / without having felt another human enfolding them against soil. / Only the winged can lift themselves so high / but freeze half-way to the clouds / locked in cold bodies, solo-flight paused.
Stained light shines on breath-less angels / who occupy a stone heaven-on-earth without living for touch / without having felt another human enfolding them against soil. / Only the winged can lift themselves so high / but freeze half-way to the clouds / locked in cold bodies, solo-flight paused.
Published on August 03, 2022 05:00
August 2, 2022
Translation: Poems by Juan de Dios García
JUAN DE DIOS GARCÍA
He speaks to us of Finnish lakes, of a dialect populated by birds and fruit, of high wooded hills, perpetual snow, a petroleum sky. “In the north they’re raised on melancholy,” he says, “and their dead weigh more than those from here.” He speaks of a Greek father and a war.
He speaks to us of Finnish lakes, of a dialect populated by birds and fruit, of high wooded hills, perpetual snow, a petroleum sky. “In the north they’re raised on melancholy,” he says, “and their dead weigh more than those from here.” He speaks of a Greek father and a war.
Published on August 02, 2022 05:00
July 28, 2022
July 2022 Poetry Feature
ZACK STRAIT
Like two passengers / in a wrecked automobile: // our eyes are fixed / on the sonogram screen— // an upside-down window / with no wiper blade // to sweep away the rain— / as the technician // inserts a long probe /
and whispers, Come on. //
Come on. The storm /
approaches slow...
Like two passengers / in a wrecked automobile: // our eyes are fixed / on the sonogram screen— // an upside-down window / with no wiper blade // to sweep away the rain— / as the technician // inserts a long probe /
and whispers, Come on. //
Come on. The storm /
approaches slow...
Published on July 28, 2022 05:00
July 26, 2022
Where Earth Meets Sky
CLINTON CROCKETT PETERS
In the cosmology of Patrick Burke, a flat-Earth believer, humans can spoon-eat uranium flakes like Cheerios. The Hubble Space Telescope never existed, nor did dinosaurs. Hiroshima was dynamited, the Titanic sunk for insurance.
In the cosmology of Patrick Burke, a flat-Earth believer, humans can spoon-eat uranium flakes like Cheerios. The Hubble Space Telescope never existed, nor did dinosaurs. Hiroshima was dynamited, the Titanic sunk for insurance.
Published on July 26, 2022 06:00
July 22, 2022
Podcast: Anu Kumar on “The Woman in the Well”
ANU KUMAR
Anu Kumar speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about her essay “The Woman in the Well,” which appears in The Common’s spring issue. Anu talks about the vivid memories from childhood that inspired this essay about ghosts, fear, family dynamics, and violence against women in India.
Anu Kumar speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about her essay “The Woman in the Well,” which appears in The Common’s spring issue. Anu talks about the vivid memories from childhood that inspired this essay about ghosts, fear, family dynamics, and violence against women in India.
Published on July 22, 2022 06:31
July 20, 2022
The Common Awarded 2022 Amazon Literary Partnership Grant
The Common, the award-winning literary journal based at Amherst College, has been selected as a 2022 Literary Magazine Fund Grant Recipient, awarded by the Amazon Literary Partnership Literary Magazine Fund in conjunction with the Community of Literary Magazines & Presses.
Published on July 20, 2022 06:00
July 14, 2022
Solar
DAVID RYAN
now that your dad’s gone your mom gets lost in the dark a lot; lost mid-stairs, or in the walk-in closet, or deep in the pantry, lost in the dark sub-terrain of the basement; or here, now at the kitchen counter, glaring out the lost window at the lost backyard
now that your dad’s gone your mom gets lost in the dark a lot; lost mid-stairs, or in the walk-in closet, or deep in the pantry, lost in the dark sub-terrain of the basement; or here, now at the kitchen counter, glaring out the lost window at the lost backyard
Published on July 14, 2022 05:00
July 11, 2022
Art is Always a Verb: An Interview with Joseph O’Neill & Chigozie Obioma
JOSEPH O’NEILL and CHIGOZIE OBIOMA interviewed by DW GIBSON In celebration of Art Omi’s 30th anniversary, DW Gibson connected with residency alumni to dive into different aspects of their work and process. When presented with the opportunity to interview Joseph O’Neill and Chigozie Obioma, Gibson was eager to talk with them about the importance of
Published on July 11, 2022 05:00
July 8, 2022
Podcast: Suhail Matar on “Granada”
SUHAIL MATAR
Palestinian writer Suhail Matar speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about his story “Granada,” translated by Amika Fendi. The story appears in The Common’s new spring issue, in a special portfolio of Arabic fiction from Palestine.
Palestinian writer Suhail Matar speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about his story “Granada,” translated by Amika Fendi. The story appears in The Common’s new spring issue, in a special portfolio of Arabic fiction from Palestine.
Published on July 08, 2022 06:00
July 6, 2022
Dispatches from MES FORETS/MY FORESTS by Hélène Dorion
Poems by HÉLÈNE DORION
split the soil / like lightning // press forward trembling / in their solitude // like a vast city of wood
the roots / accommodate the sap / that scours them
split the soil / like lightning // press forward trembling / in their solitude // like a vast city of wood
the roots / accommodate the sap / that scours them
Published on July 06, 2022 06:15