Archives about BOA Editions
Aaron said, Look Chet, I’m just like you, okay? I don’t use pesticides on my lawn, I give to Habitat for Humanity, and I vote for the Democrats. So what’s the big deal? I want my children to have a viable future, that’s all. You don’t have any children, I said. That’s true, Faye said.
How does one write a book of poems that deals with the unspeakable suffering that history, its people and its events, have brought onto innocent lives, without perpetuating that trauma? the black maria, by Aracelis Girmay (BOA Editions) doesn’t evade tragedy. There is suffering here: that of the thousands who have attempted the journey to
By nature a bus is a vehicle with an amiable face. It belched blue and the haze flew up bluer between soaring glass, steel, brick. The city was sticky and hard. For example, if a guy didn’t notice the white ground or the winter-bare trees in the median islands or the manhole covers rusted and
It’s funny how I remember things. The tiny delicate-looking man in the bar in Malaysia—when we were always traveling somewhere after the baby died and before Gladys came along. That man approached us with such friendliness and courtesy. He was wandering around in the bar wearing a brown suit. “How good to see fellow countrymen,”
“What remains in the aftermath of emotional tragedy is worth claiming”: In conversation with Keetje Kuipers
Jonathan Plays in the Key of E Which makes me weep. Which makes me press my face into the bear skin rug. Makes me remember my body’s shadow crossing the shallows of the lake. Could I touch bottom? Reach the lowest point and find my footing there? Around me, everything divines a way of making