Posts Tagged ‘reading’
July 16, 2013 | by Nikkitha Bakshani
I am partial to sentences with this framework: “There are two kinds of [ ]: those who [ ], and those who [ ].” The setup should, ideally, involve a chiasmus or double entendre or any florid rhetorical device that offsets the blatant generalization being made. The best of such sentences are aware of their blatant generalizations but strive for truth anyway, recklessly. That’s the last line of this recording. Stonecipher’s syntactical attempt to polarize the past and future sinks as it tries to swim, for she—or the general truth of life—has already convinced us that the past, present, and future are in flux.
Read the full poem in our Summer 2013 issue.
July 16, 2013 | by Sadie Stein
July 2, 2013 | by Clare Fentress
Henri Cole contributed two poems to our Summer issue, “Self-Portrait with Rifle” and “Free Dirt.” They pair well; both wrestle with the baseness humanity is capable of, and particularly with the surprise we feel when we find such baseness in ourselves. “Self-Portrait with Rifle” illustrates this shock with a jarring scene: a man holding a gun, indignant at his victims—innocent deer—for yielding their lives to his misplaced violence.
July 2, 2013 | by Sadie Stein
This infographic on hours spent reading per week is fascinating.
July 1, 2013 | by Sadie Stein
What makes this so compelling is that the cat is really poring over the text.
CORRECTION: The cat’s owner has written in to inform us that not only is Boris literate, he is reading Tennyson!
June 25, 2013 | by Justin Alvarez
“Would I be thought of as the biological father, just a donor, not at all?”
“What is the effect of sildenafil citrate on stout-bodied passerines?”
“What was the annual per capita gross national income of China at the time of ejaculation?”
Ben Lerner’s “False Spring” is full of many questions, but not many answers. Blame it on his being a poet; he prefers ambiguity to resolution. “False Spring,” just like his novel, Leaving the Atocha Station, can be read as a Künstlerroman of sorts. Who knew a visit to the Park Slope Food Coop could be so transformative?