Radicle: An Interview with Hala Alyan
The radicle of Hala Alyan’s writing career sprouted in the sixth grade, after the first full book she ever read. In this interview, Hala and I explore this genesis and discuss the various roots and branches her writing has developed since. It includes four award-winning poetry collections and two stunning …
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The Blessing of the Throats
They came for Blaise of Sebaste in the late afternoon, just before supper. Light filtered through the trees on the mountain before it entered the mouth of the cave where he knelt in prayer on a mat of reeds. He had seen patients earlier in the day, but retired to …
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Lucinda’s Bouquet
Lucinda sat very straight on a chair in front of the small window in the tiny living room. She stared out, as though watching a movie screen. A dozen or so onlookers had already gathered outside the window by the time Ana and I arrived, our arms full of flowers. …
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My Name is Reaškkas
It means laughter. What I left (I want you to imagine laughter without a beginning or an end. A laughter that is untethered and limitless. A laughter that is impossible to smother or cage.) I got the name Reaškkas several weeks after I was born. Until then, I was munno …
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How it Burned
In the photo of Notre Dame, three ravens swim in the churn of smoke and flame. In stories, ravens live close to the end of the world. They are hungry, and the cathedral is consumed already. They are ready. They like it this way. On that façade stands the carving …
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Dear John Ashbery
You seem to understand the need to think things through all the while never getting up from the breakfast table. A plate of parmigiano-reggiano drizzled with honey—delish. The make-it-new-again poets wound up in the newspaper on the same page as murderers. My morning routine has flowering clovers and juggernauts in …
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This Country Keeps Unearthing Grief from Me
& I swear, I tried to swallow it. Like a chasm, I pushed the memories of each carnage down my throat. But she keeps pulling them out— a stubborn unburial. All the names of the dead screeching as they slide off my teeth. & Lord, the abundance of …
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