by Alanna Carlson Anyone who knows me knows that I am unabashedly, loudly, political. Not infrequently, a family member (often on the other side of the political aisle than myself) will ask me some variation of the question, “Why do you care so much about something that doesn’t really affect your life?” I have, until … Continue reading What Witness Means
by Caitlin Wheeler A few years ago, a few colleagues and I hosted lunch for a well-to-do visiting author. The author invited a local friend to join and they gabbed about nearby orchards and her friend’s meadery. When a colleague tried to join the conversation by sharing an experience she’d had working in a bicycle … Continue reading Vox II: Engage
In photos of cows and pigs, I began to see sentient souls looking back at me. I would lose my breath at the beauty I had never known to look for in “livestock.” I felt myself peering into the eyes of a goat and searching for a language other than English in which to communicate, a language that has nothing to do with words.
Considering our current moment, it would appear there’s no getting around our postmodern predicament at this point. The President is a former reality TV star, the U.S. has theoretically ceded its role as the leader of the free world, and the specter of a foreign power looms over the country. Sounds almost like the lampoon of a Michael Crichton novel (minus the time travel, of course) more than a real, present reality.
Eventually, life happens to everyone - it is the great equalizer. Someday, you might be in the position to not contribute anything.
AWP isn't the frenetic overwhelming thing it once was. No longer do I stand paralyzed, unable to take everything in or even figure out where to begin.
hese poems are my way of honoring the mysteries of the natural world—weather, geology, our human impermanence—using metaphor and image, rhythm and form to understand our roles in such an intricate system.
What can I offer them? What can I write to them when their fears and questions—along with mine—are so loud in our ears?
We are not interested in who is right or wrong, politically, but in capturing the voices in the discussion. We attempted to present as wide an array of voices as we could.
Harry Potter had given me back the way I’d read in childhood—for no other reason than to be swept away by a great story. It was about the smell of the paper, the swish and crackle of a turning page, zooming through paragraph after paragraph to find out what happens next.
