Michael Londra
The authors assembled in “Crimean Fig” demonstrate they are unafraid to speak up for Tatar language and culture, while simultaneously speaking out against Putin, unwilling to submit.
Optimistic, a canny survivor, relentless, genderfluid—poet May Swenson described herself as “I am one of those to whom miracles happen.”
Of special interest is Askold Melnyczuk’s treatment of objects. His imagination transforms curios into uncanny artefacts.
Unable to place Cavafy in a holistic context, momentum is never sustained. Key points remain scattered, unintegrated.
As befits a prolific and distinguished poet, renowned for his visionary instincts and signature compositional technique, Nathan Kernan has produced an account of James Schuyler that is as morally serious as his subject.
There are reassuring lyrics here that suggest that, no matter what terror comes along, our noble charge is to fight to the end, joyously.
Chronicling acts of feminist sisterhood, “Girlfriend” memorializes a mutual support system that has been among the backbones of American life.
While David Shapiro’s criticism is audacious, his interviews are self-deprecating and offbeat, filled with surprising reveals.
You could say that Thomas O’Grady’s poems have the eyes of a horse — channeling history and mythology through the contemporary lens of poetry’s eternal present.
Ron Padgett’s “Pink Dust” proves that W.H. Auden was wrong — the nothing of poetry contains everything required to make a good (even heroic) life happen.
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