“Babel Sestina” performs a journey through the powers of language, of naming and gendering, of grammarizing our own identities. James O’Leary’s poem declares, “We invent anew mountain, reach up for new holy”—but ends in a question: what’s left in our…
We’re all very excited to share with you the 1st runner up of our Antioch Fellowship, “An Explanation” by Madeleine Cravens: an investigation of womanhood, of getting older, of reading the slow, slow message of our own past. Stay tuned…
“In the desert, I am—” Faylita Hicks’ “Arco” gathers the brittle and brine of syllable and vowel to press upon the reader an urgent hunger, her every word a “facility of ghosts, starved for the heated flicks.” Welcome to the…
We’re all very excited to share with you the 2nd runner up of our Antioch Fellowship. Stay tuned for our second place poem by Madeleine Cravens next Wednesday, and our winner Momtaza Mehri ‘s poetry on the 22nd. Today, we…
Jordan E. Franklin has seemingly made the right choice: an “imagination / that ran naked / and green through / the Flatbush” of her skull. And it shows—”Multiverse of Madness (in Technicolor)” races through its broken lines and mad whitespace,…
Akhim Yuseff Cabey’s “Final Relaxation” is a full row of teeth: neatly and densely packed, every word carefully designed by its context to lift more than its muscles should allow. This is how words get in our bodies—this, this. …
Congratulations to Momtaza Mehri, winner of the 2020 Frontier-Antioch Fellowship, and a sincere thanks to everyone who submitted. Thank you, also, for your patience while we reviewed all the extraordinary work. Momtaza Mehri will get to attend a 10 day,…
Kathryn Hunt’s elegy pursues the ultimately elusive goal: meaning and sense before the lip of the grave. Somehow, “What Rituals Did You Perform?” answers itself, as only poetry does, in the asking. What Rituals Did You Perform? When you…
“Foundling” by Anna Seidel: a poem that leaves room in the mouth for tonguing the edge of each sweet word. Foundling In the evening, a scorpion in bed. A cheerful and a sad wind blowing across the room. You kiss…
“Leaving” performs with delicate movements and lures the reader as a burglar from room to room, pockets filling with jewels. Anna Tomlinson’s work asks us how much of our want is our own, and how much of it we dare…
