The Word on the Street by Paul Muldoon
The Word on the Street is not Pulitzer Prize winner Paul Muldoon’s first work of writing for music. He wrote librettos for four Daren Hagen operas; Shining Bow, Vera of…
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The Next Letter in the Mail: Chloe Caldwell
We’re pleased to announce that the next Letter in the Mail, going out next Thursday, is from Chloe Caldwell! Chloe Caldwell is a Rumpus contributor and interviewee. Her essay collection Legs…
Sightseer by Cynthia Marie Hoffman
Cynthia Marie Hoffman’s excellent debut poetry collection, Sightseer, is part travelogue, part epistle, and part reclamation of the very idea of tourism. The winner of the Lexi Rudnitsky First Book…
The Last Book I Loved: Brown Girl, Brownstones
My dreams, for so long unrestrained by land, air, or even death—and frequently including scenes of me tumbling through the air on glossy black feathered wings or jumping into an…
THE LONELY VOICE #23: It Doesn’t Fit, It Will Never Fit, It Fits
Of Jean-Claude Van Damme, Haiti, and V.S. Pritchett...
The Last Poem I Loved: “Seele im Raum” by Randall Jarrell
Well, hello there, Randall Jarrell. Where you been all my life? And how did you get a real live eland up into a poem? An eland! It came out of…
David Biespiel’s Poetry Wire: Going Back to 1968
45 years ago was a barricaded, world-rocking year. Both in politics and in poetry. Between January and the end of March came the beginning of both the Prague Spring and…
THIS IS NOT AN EMAIL
In honor of Letter Writing Month, City Lights is publishing a few of our Letters in the Mail! First up is Deb Olin Unferth’s letter. Stay tuned for another by Gabrielle…
Hider Roser by Ben Mirov
The poems that make up this collection are largely about the interior—the speakers alone with their thoughts.
FUNNY WOMEN #94: An Actual Missed Connection
This is a missed connection, and as such I am very sorry that our connection was missed, or maybe I’m not, I don’t know, because I’ve never met you.
The Last Poem I Loved: “Insomnia” by Elizabeth Bishop
It is near the time of my college graduation. I’m graduating early, barely 20 years old. Among my friends, the stuff of my romantic self-sabotage is legendary.
Lit-Link Round-up
I woke Friday morning to the news that Emily Rapp’s son, Ronan Louis, had died. Ronan had Tay-Sachs, but the “expected” nature of a death does nothing to soften a…