From the Quarterly

While reading “Sea Unicorns and Land Unicorns”

The doubled reality of one Marianne Moore poem

American Anonymity: Reading Alex Dimitrov & Tommy Pico

In our constant fight to feel accounted for inside the crowd, we shout, we overshare, we reword until others think it sounds beautiful enough to publish—whether we are distilling that experience to its most basic, relatable pieces or pushing the boundaries of how that experience can be shared.

Frank O’Hara’s Notorious B.I.G.

The affinities between New York’s most mercurial lyricists.

English-language Poetry in Hong Kong Now

We can certainly no longer say that ‘[t]here is no English-language literary community from which to draw some kind of affinity or against which to react’. One just has to go out, be receptive, join a group, and meet and mingle with other like-minded people.

Another Life

She’d jotted down many questions, each marking a point on a borderline in the text where either her concentration failed or her resistance to Suah’s narrative succeeded. Passages underlined in blue, margins filled with wavery scribble; the train had been rocking back and forth.

Poetry of Negation and the Negation of Poetry: Dissidence and form in Vietnamese poetry

Dissident poetry resonates against oppression, advocates for democracy, reveals previously undisclosed information, and attacks (the dogma of) traditional values associated with state power.

No One Promised Us Anything: Poetry in Mexico City

The act of climbing a platform and reading poetry in the street is part of the literary transformation that’s arisen in Mexico City. Poets no longer seek closed spaces where only their acquaintances attend to pat them on the back as an institutionalized greeting.

Against a Beige Vision

Oakland, poetry, and radical empathy.

The End, an Introduction

The pieces you will find in this issue address not just the end, but perhaps what happens after.

Jesús Carmona-Robles

“I do not believe in the poet as a prophet. I do not believe in the poet as a revelator of absolute truths. I do not believe in the poet as a warrior. I think the poet is a sort of journalist of himself who uses language to flirt with beauty.”