Down where it is dry and wild, across the border where the bad guys went when the sheriff was after them, there is a hilltop. On it live a man and a woman, both expatriates, who drink, give orders to Mexicans, pretend to work. Although they have a blue swimming pool and get all their…
Boys, men, girls, children, mothers, babies. You got to feed them. You always got to keep them fed. Winter summer. They always have to feel satisfied. Winter summer. But then you stop and ask: Where is the food going to come from? Because it’s never-ending, never-stopping. Where? Because your life is spent on feeding them…
Back in the days when life was easy and you could walk down the street at night and not worry about anybody knocking you over the head with some blunt object and taking all of your pocket change, Miss Mamie Jamison, the neighborhood kids’ godmother who gave us money and candy and let us hide…
MASTHEAD Guest Editors Marie Howe & Christopher Tilghman Executive Director DeWitt Henry Managing Editor & Fiction Editor Don Lee Poetry Editors David Daniel & Joyce Peseroff Editorial Assistant Barbara Tran Circulation Manager Maureen Armstrong Founding Publisher Peter O'Malley Staff Assistant: Barbara Lewis. Staff Intern: Maryn Wergland. Assistant Proofreader: Holly LeCraw Howe. Fiction Readers: Billie Lydia…
“Obscenity” is often not an expression by an individual uttered under great stress and condemned as bad taste, but one permitted and even prescribed by society. —E. E. Evans-Pritchard, British social anthropologist, 1925 Among the Ba-Ila (“among” as if swarming the petri dish of the British Imperialist), there exist expressions used collectively, that is, in…
1. For the one on top, polished, sartorial, but abstracted as Lincoln on his Memorial, fingers tapping the armrests, or flapping his newspaper, time at this connecting stop slows like winter on a mink-oiled Little Leaguer’s glove . . . When each shoe is stripped, finally, of its upper layers of the world, a silver-…
In 1987, Marie Howe's first book of poems, The Good Thief, was selected by Margaret Atwood for the National Poetry Series. Persea Books published the book in 1988, and later that year, it won the Peter Lavan Younger Poet Prize from the Academy of American Poets. Although Howe didn't begin writing poetry seriously until she…
How, in summer, a man and woman, as in Paris, embrace under trees, and the leaves and the grass bend back and sweat amends them, in a park where the squirrels eat well, where the bronze horse could heave off its officer. How it is like water, sex in summer. You cover yourself, your leaves…
on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad—wheels of the train clacking and clicking I wish it could be rhythm on a drum or church piano something for the folks to remember of working men & Mr. McCorkle Redcap porter dishwasher peach brown lemon yaller black tall and fat working men with those smoking & sweet smelling…
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