Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 7
May 5, 2025
My Last Poem
MICHAEL CATHERWOOD
is quiet and bright along / the edges, is a beast of silence, / grips a wooden cane / where in the daylight it taps / its way among the stones / and puddles. / is quiet and bright along /
the edges, is a beast of silence, /
grips a wooden cane /
where in the daylight it taps /
its way among the stones /
and puddles. /
There is no pain: /
wind and branches and blue /
lakes. The beauty of silence /
scrubs clean all doubt, clears /
away the brittle leaves /
on sidewalks.
is quiet and bright along / the edges, is a beast of silence, / grips a wooden cane / where in the daylight it taps / its way among the stones / and puddles. / is quiet and bright along /
the edges, is a beast of silence, /
grips a wooden cane /
where in the daylight it taps /
its way among the stones /
and puddles. /
There is no pain: /
wind and branches and blue /
lakes. The beauty of silence /
scrubs clean all doubt, clears /
away the brittle leaves /
on sidewalks.
Sidewalks of an Anxious City
HAIFA ABUALNADI
Amman is a city of deferred migration with no hope of arriving, depression with no hope of recovery, and the scam that is returnees’ dream of connection. Amman isn’t mine. Because I’m the daughter of parents who left for a time.
Amman is a city of deferred migration with no hope of arriving, depression with no hope of recovery, and the scam that is returnees’ dream of connection. Amman isn’t mine. Because I’m the daughter of parents who left for a time.
Covanta Incinerator, Newark, New Jersey
NICOLE COOLEY
Out my kitchen window, no pink corridor of smoke. / Along my daughters’ walk to school, redbud trees, native to this state, also known as flamethrowers. / Five miles away, in Newark, the sky above Raymond Boulevard blooms with the discard, the abandoned, rubbish—
Out my kitchen window, no pink corridor of smoke. / Along my daughters’ walk to school, redbud trees, native to this state, also known as flamethrowers. / Five miles away, in Newark, the sky above Raymond Boulevard blooms with the discard, the abandoned, rubbish—
Confrontations with Amman: A Love-Hate Relationship
RANEEM ABO RMALIA
As they await my departure, the stairs confess their fatigue to me. They long to release the burden of steadfastness, but I plead with them to stay for the sake of all promises lovers make to each other. The stairs ask me to leave...
As they await my departure, the stairs confess their fatigue to me. They long to release the burden of steadfastness, but I plead with them to stay for the sake of all promises lovers make to each other. The stairs ask me to leave...
May 1, 2025
Selections from Lettres en forêt urbain
BERTRAND LAVERDURE
Your saffron-colored sticks flatter my circular daydreams. The road is a second-hand dealer of wood who doesn’t mark their prices. A colony of bags, spare with its conclusions. You are the lookout post of a dead stream. Calm like a descent, breath held [...]
Your saffron-colored sticks flatter my circular daydreams. The road is a second-hand dealer of wood who doesn’t mark their prices. A colony of bags, spare with its conclusions. You are the lookout post of a dead stream. Calm like a descent, breath held [...]
April 30, 2025
The Common x Sant Jordi Book Festival: Arabic Fiction Readings
NEWS AND EVENTS
Some of The Common’s Arabic fiction contributors, MARYAM DAJANI, ESTABRAQ AHMAD, and ISHRAGA MUSTAFA HAMID, made virtual appearances at the Sant Jordi Book Festival last week! The hybrid celebration, sponsored by the eponymous Sant Jordi in New York, is held annually in New York City to raise awareness of literature in translation.
Some of The Common’s Arabic fiction contributors, MARYAM DAJANI, ESTABRAQ AHMAD, and ISHRAGA MUSTAFA HAMID, made virtual appearances at the Sant Jordi Book Festival last week! The hybrid celebration, sponsored by the eponymous Sant Jordi in New York, is held annually in New York City to raise awareness of literature in translation.
dispatch from lebanon, 2023
GHINWA JAWHARI
my dear: after the noise & flash of beirut, at last we are collecting ourselves for a short while in the mountains: the district of mtein, where my partner’s grandparents have built an enormous, open home meant for hosting grandchildren.
my dear: after the noise & flash of beirut, at last we are collecting ourselves for a short while in the mountains: the district of mtein, where my partner’s grandparents have built an enormous, open home meant for hosting grandchildren.
April 29, 2025
Join Weekly Writes This Summer For Motivation and Accountability
Weekly Writes Summer 2025 kicks off on July 14 to keep you motivated and meeting your writing goals all through the late-summer heat! Sign up now!
April 24, 2025
Candy and Layer Cake: Zack Strait in Conversation with Richard Siken (and Five Poems)
RICHARD SIKEN
Math is the most accurate language we have for describing the world, but sometimes we don’t need accuracy, we need relation and approximation. That's poetry. Poetry is a mutation of the language that allows for evolution ... We can expand a body of knowledge with lateral thinking and comparison.
Math is the most accurate language we have for describing the world, but sometimes we don’t need accuracy, we need relation and approximation. That's poetry. Poetry is a mutation of the language that allows for evolution ... We can expand a body of knowledge with lateral thinking and comparison.
April 21, 2025
Review: Theory and Practice by Michelle de Kretser
AMBER RUTH PAULEN
One of the brilliances of Michelle de Kretser’s newest novel Theory and Practice is how the author lassoes life’s “messy truths” into a neat and slim book. To do so, de Kretser asks many questions at once: How does shame lead to silence? Why write? What to feel when an idol falls from grace? How do you break free from your mother (the Woolfmother included)? How do class and race determine your place in the world? What to do when life doesn’t fit your ideas about it?
One of the brilliances of Michelle de Kretser’s newest novel Theory and Practice is how the author lassoes life’s “messy truths” into a neat and slim book. To do so, de Kretser asks many questions at once: How does shame lead to silence? Why write? What to feel when an idol falls from grace? How do you break free from your mother (the Woolfmother included)? How do class and race determine your place in the world? What to do when life doesn’t fit your ideas about it?
