Magnetized by Carlos Busqued | Review
Pavol Rankov
In the evenings Karcsi sat quietly at the table and watched his mother pray. Her lips moved silently through the rosary, and he looked as if he were trying to figure out which part of the prayer she was saying.
E.J. Schwartz
Billie is the first to sprout breasts in our bunk, her body so coveted amongst our puny group that when she admits to picking her nose, no one says a word about it.
Donna Stonecipher’s PROSE POETRY AND THE CITY | Review
Prose Poetry and the City, Donna Stonecipher's probing, flâneur-like meander through the history and poetics of the prose poem, is written not unlike the prose poem itself—an open space of relations that view modernity and its poetics not as a matrix, a network, or a panopticon, but rather as a series of moving tensions.
Mark Terrill
who knows maybe we’re all going to make it & pull through & get beyond it all but certainly not without the help of someone else who really & truly gives a shit
Donna Stonecipher
Of course it was a little odd to be glad of the bombs that had blown the buildings to bits, to be grateful for the failed bankrupt state that had enabled the holes to remain holes, so lying on the grass of an accidental playground, one just listened to the ping-pong ball batted back and forth across the concrete table.
Petr Borkovec
Petr Borkovec is now a somewhat neglected author, and it is unquestionably true that only a small handful of readers know his work.
Joshua Weiner
They are together, finally, in each other's arms, new lovers joined by the need to be consoled, the need to console.