Monthly archive March, 2013
Selections from "Redemption,"Witness XXVI.1 (Spring 2013), Now Live

Selections from “Redemption,”Witness XXVI.1 (Spring 2013), Now Live

Selections from Witness' "Redemption" print issue (XXVI.1 | Spring 2013) are now live.
Kondrich Poetry Collection Published by Parlor Press

Kondrich Poetry Collection Published by Parlor Press

Parlor Press has just published Christopher Kondrich’s new book of poetry, Contrapuntal. The book contains poems that were first published in Witness XXV.2, the Summer 2012 online issue.

On Confluence

— in Glacier National Park, Montana Leaves, like gravel on a road, are rounding yellow now, falling, spraying, becoming something else. Names are only guesses. In East Glacier, the white-bark pines on the summit have curled into gray skeletons rising from the scree. Branches, now barkless, now weathered and gnarled and needleless, become surroyal antlers,...

Postcard: New Year’s Eve

That’s us   in the ice-skating rink converted to a fight club  The guards took pain pills, let the anarchists hit them  You used to “not date” one of the anarchists  We were there with your dad the time you told me no one ever fucked you harder than that kid you couldn’t stand  The sky an electric pink, you told...

Lives

A dove leapt right out of Joan of Arc’s mouth. If I were burning at the stake a dishrag would leap right out of my mouth. Today, a young woman held the door open for me the whole time I descended the stairs while repeating thank you, thank you, thank you. Did I think I...

Driving down from Georgia and the Doors Are Painted Blue

The devil does my dirty work: I wish you could know and not know. The devil squats at Fat Mac’s BBQ. The devil suckles beer–can chicken to beer–can bone. Shot Well Road. Quail Rise Road. Signs say, chicks here, rabbits here, Jesus is here, and the churches are white and poor. The funnel cloud is...

After a Stroke, My Mother Addresses the Lord While Watching Footage of the Aftermath of the Earthquake in Haiti

Where are the women running, Lord, their purses hooked on sleepless shoulders, their streets flush with chairs, with unshaven African gods? Mason who made Port-au-Prince, Mason who unmade the city in seven seconds, you have made me, and ruined me. Lord of cement and ricket, you shaped us all in your own image — every...

You, You, You

In the first place I went men were walking around with their hearts on the ground and they were picking them up and attempting to shove them back into their breasts and their breasts weren’t having it. In the second place most of the people were pleased that they weren’t in the other place, but...

The Last Horse in Skopje

Rišto Karadelev had been in his new position as Divisional Assistant to the Department of City Authorities for less than a week before he was summoned, in that soporific hour after lunch, to the Director’s office. A typist, severe and prim, delivered the news, and she avoided eye contact with Rišto. He was unsurprised. She...

Alternate Lives

I was skimming the Chicago Tribune when I saw the announcement about Walid Kamal, hero of the Arab Spring, next to an article on illegal immigration. I casually turned the page, paused, then flipped back to look again at Kamal’s grainy picture. Something about the tilt of head, the wide-apart eyes, reminded me of my...

Redemption – Vol. XXVI No. 1 (Spring 2013)

Ed Kashi / VII Photo Agency Fiction Abdul Shakoor Jawad, The Hasher Dennis Kennedy, War Babies Kristen Blanco Gottstein, How Easily Swept Away Patty Houston, Beer Sponsor Andrew Wickenden, Inklinks Elise Blackwell, Secessio Daniel A. Hoyt, Girl X Mark Rigney, The Last Horse in Skopje Afsheen Farhadi, The World at His Feet Sebastian Langdell, You,...