In Hour Book, Heim highlights a necessary attention to how our daily lives are structured by innumerable, formal constraints and how, to put it simply, one stays alive in spite of or perhaps even because of these constraints.
Yearly Archives: 2019
by BRANDON CLIPPINGER Evie shifted her feet in the scorched grass, then switched her pocketbook from the crook of one elbow to the other. The complex was so quiet. But then again, who would want to come out and make … Continued
It is a fever dream that never breaks, a self-interrogation that turns and turns and writhes against itself in an inferno of its own making, as is the case for all of us
by KATHARINE COLDIRON Sarah M. Broom, The Yellow House (Grove Atlantic, 2019), pp. 384 This review originally appeared in the Fall 2019 print issue of Carolina Quarterly. The story of a place is the story of its context, and that context can be … Continued
by JASON PECK “My suggestion was quite simple: Put that needed code in a little capsule, and then implant that capsule next to the heart of a volunteer … if ever the President wanted to fire nuclear weapons, the only … Continued
As these poems traverse the Mexico-U.S. border, we see the speaker’s body at the physical border as she reenacts an illegal crossing, on the linguistic border as so many of the poems have rivulets of Spanish in them, and on the political border as Scenters-Zapico takes on Trump’s rhetoric about the wall.
by JOHN DUDEK If the angels of vengeance are generous, they will place in your hands some icon of a long former love. A favorite mug you can pitch to the hard floor of a dumpster, a claddagh ring to … Continued
by BRIAN DRUCKENMILLER Donning his glossy black tights with a purple stripe down each leg, Gill Grimshaw wound electrical tape around his arms to exaggerate his biceps. Through the streaks of the locker room mirror, he couldn’t help but notice … Continued
River of Fire demonstrates the continuity of all human experience—its joys and its miseries alike.
by KATARINA PALACIOS We swept the desert when my sister came to town. Broken glass, insect husks, casings, cigarettes, small bones…we swept it all away, behind the garage. There wasn’t much we could do about the smoke from the forest … Continued