We are so excited to get the chance to publish some of Hanif’s latest work. You can see some of his usual strokes here: the play with breath & pause, the mischievous titles, the exploration of race & truth &…
The cruelest month is done—time to set those poems free. We’ve put together a solid list of potential homes for your words, big & small. Every month is an opportunity to start a new acceptance streak, so don’t let up…
Welcome home, poet. Frontier Poetry began as an arm of The Masters Review, a publication that focuses on new and emerging fiction and narrative nonfiction writers. We wanted to offer the same quality platform for poets, to generate real visibility…
The press of associative leaps, dream like & urbane simultaneously, carries this poem. So much contained between the blue skull and the teeth-pennies—Cynthia does excellent work here to place side-by-side the reader’s relatable experience with the (dangerous) strangeness of exile…
As a home for emerging authors & established voices together, we are looking for poems that express both traditional excellence in craft and a willing fearlessness in content and form. For us, the frontier of poetry is a place where…
2017 has been a good year for poetry so far—looking at you Morgan Parker, Chen Chen, Safia Elhillo, & more—and this summer is contending to be one of the best in years. Here are the six books we are most…
The scope of Olio, the latest poetry collection from Tyehimba Jess (Wave Books) is sweeping, excavating the stories of Black performers and musicians from the last decades of slavery, through the Civil War, Reconstruction, and up through the First World…
Vandana does something special here. Amidst the language of nature—the lush green forests, the stars, the twigs—this poem grips our bodies firm. Vandana finds space to bring in bones & tongues & the pulse of blood, & especially those hands.…
Poetry, at its best, engages the human body in whatever way it can. There is room enough for poems like this one by Sarah Barber—room enough to speak truth to the needles ravaging American families. Sarah doesn’t hide here, nor…
This poem performs its conceit well. A familiar anxiety hugs the imagery—that all too familiar unease of love lost & discarded. Pay attention to the way the conceit returns, returns again, & rides the imagery like an unhappy passenger. See…
