My parents had always had a copy of Kaddish, which my mother urged us to read, but refused to really discuss the book.
(nonfiction)
Tag: Poetry
The latest in our FORTHCOMING series of excerpts from new books
“every long night before I met you // every long night when I wanted you”
It was late in the evening and dark, the dark river with its lights passing by, reflections from the Seine travelling across the ceiling, sliding along the walls.
I have not / strayed far from the dead. I see their hip favored / executives and can pick them out from big / crowds
She bravely gazes into the unknown without trying to articulate what gazes back.
(reviews)
That day has never ended. / The fence he built is still new.
The latest piece in our DEBUT section, which showcases the first literary work published by a writer, beyond a campus-only magazine
“Sometimes I feel like a beetle. / Hanging on to a blade of grass / for dear life while what others describe / as a gentle breeze knocks the wind out of me.”
(poetry)
It’s theirs as much as mine, / this house, their great black wings / sweeping past windows as the day unfolds
(poetry)
After double shifts / waiting tables at the country club, / she soaks herself pruny, / floats on the water until the streetlights hum.
(poetry)
