Poetry
As A Miner
Contributor
Ann StephensonAnn Stephenson's chapbooks include Adventure Club (Insurance Editions) and Wirework (Tent Editions). This fall she will be publishing Carol Szamatowicz's chapbook, Kit Carson. Some recent poems have appeared in Across the Margin, Ladowich and The Recluse as well as the anthology Like Musical Instruments: 83 Contemporary American Poets by John Sarsgard and Larry Fagin (Broadstone Books). She was born and raised in Georgia and lives and works in New York City.
RECOMMENDED ARTICLES
David Hammons: Day’s End
By Robert SlifkinJUNE 2021 | ArtSeen
Hammons’s Day’s End, which was officially opened last month, resembles a three-dimensional architectural diagram, the scaffolding for a construction site, or the internal bracing of an unfinished building.
from A Season
By Michael Joseph WalshDEC 19-JAN 20 | Poetry
Michael Joseph Walsh is a Korean American poet. He is co-editor for APARTMENT Poetry, and his poems have appeared in DIAGRAM, DREGINALD, Fence, FOLDER, jubilat, and elsewhere. He lives in Denver.
A Sketch about Genocide
By Tongo Eisen-MartinAPRIL 2021 | Critics Page
Originally from San Francisco, Tongo Eisen-Martin is a poet, movement worker, and educator. His latest curriculum on extrajudicial killing of Black people, We Charge Genocide Again, has been used as an educational and organizing tool throughout the country. His book titled, “Someone's Dead Already” was nominated for a California Book Award. His latest book “Heaven Is All Goodbyes” was published by the City Lights Pocket Poets series, was shortlisted for the Griffins Poetry Prize and won a California Book Award and an American Book Award. His forthcoming book “Blood On The Fog” is being released this fall in the City Lights Pocket Poets series. He is San Francisco’s eighth poet laureate.
Mic Check
By Rob GerhardtDEC 19-JAN 20 | Field Notes
I had just stepped out of the subway station when my cell phone rang. It was my father. “I saw on the news that there are protesters gathering in Manhattan. Be careful getting home.” “OK, Dad. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be careful.” I put my phone back in my pocket, reached for my cameras and felt the weight of them on my neck as I slipped their straps over my head. I adjusted my camera bag on my hip, turned the collar up on my old green army jacket, and took a deep breath as I faced the mass of protesters in front of me who had gathered in the chilly night air at Union Square.
