Elliott Anderson and Robert Onopa (editors) - TriQuarterly 47 - Love/Hate - Northwestern University - Winter 1980
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Elliott Anderson and Robert Onopa (editors) - TriQuarterly 47 - Love/Hate - Northwestern University - Winter 1980

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grief will always be a butchery â grief go always get plenti voices, it doesnât have to be anything that has a name in my dialect or yours.
Nome Emeka Patrick, â[Is Not Like Anybody Likes Grief, But Na Wetin Go Surely Come],â published in TriQuarterly
I wonder what is the sound of this silence / without my silence.
Keith S. Wilson, from âAugury,â published in TriQuarterly
Kaveh Akbar âTres poemas.
Con la venia del poeta me aventurĂŠ a traducir tres de sus poemas.
Unburnable the Cold is Flooding Our Lives
Orchids Are Sprouting From The Floorboards
Unburnable the Cold is Flooding Our Lives
Kaveh Akbar [TeherĂĄn, IrĂĄn, 1989]. MFA de Butler University y doctorado en escritura creativa de Florida State University. Es autor de Calling a Wolf a Wolf (Alice James Books, 2017) y del panfleto Portrait of the Alcoholic (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2017). Fundador del sitio web de entrevistas sobre poesĂa Divedapper, actualmente enseĂąa en Purdue University y en el programa de MFA de baja residencia en Randolph College.
[website]
[Transl] Incombustible el FrĂo estĂĄ Inundando Nuestras Vidas (Unburnable the Cold is Flooding Our Lives) de... by Ricardo VelĂĄsquez on Scribd
[Transl] EstĂĄn Brotando OrquĂdeas Desde Los Entarimados (Orchids Are Sprouting from the Floorboards) de Kav... by Ricardo VelĂĄsquez on Scribd
[Transl] OraciĂłn Matutina con el Rey de las Ratas (Morning Prayer with Rat King) de Kaveh Akbar by Ricardo VelĂĄsquez on Scribd
Thanks to TriQuarterly for featuring my poetry-film Body With No Windows in the summer/fall 2017 issue!
Sarah Minor writes:
In âBody With No Windowsâ by Annelyse Gelman, âhuman faces have been elided,â first found and then lost. Here, the tensions between vocal annunciation and the sharp timing of archival clips showcase Gelmanâs practiced hand at working in collage. A woman on camera walking alone becomes a mother holding a childâs hand just as suddenly as âthe feeling that your body belongs to youâ might go away. Gelmanâs opening soundscape signals a kind of dread or apprehension. This tone is quickly disrupted by quotidian footage of sunbathers in crabgrass, yard dogs, and tandem swimmers curated from the Prelinger Archives. In a particular fleeting style that intermedia texts seem to capture best, Gelman asks us to recognize the uncanny that we only witness in the daily lives of others, that particular waiting âto be carried from what you cannot remember to what you cannot foresee.â

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Unlearn empireâs blackness: night spun savage, space cast empty when really a balm slicks the split between stars. Really hipthick spirits moonwalk across the lake ice.
Kemi Alabi, âThe Lonely Sleep Through Winter,â published in TriQuarterly
The leaves have held on this long. A dream retained as the body retains a compass. A yield sign doesnât stop anything from leaving. The streets, abandoned again. Tell me how to lose someone who didnât know he was lost.
Chelsea Dingman, âMarcescence,â published in TriQuarterly
I wish I could touch / myself with any tenderness, any soft,
Kayleb Rae Candrilli, from âNotes toward Top Surgery and the Impending Death of the Barrier Reef,â published in TriQuarterly