Feature | BWR

National Poetry Month: WE ARE WHERE WE TREMBLE by Kimberly Burwick

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 20, 2014 | Archive, Feature

We Are Where We Tremble by Kimberly Burwick In the lean fraction of distance between back barn and the godfather moan of wind, dry volleying of ruddy starlings and the forthright chord that is both creek and birds of screech, is the pattern by which we come up from...

National Poetry Month: CASTING OUT THE KING OF BOYS by Zachary Schomburg

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 19, 2014 | Archive, Feature

Casting Out the King of Boys by Zachary Schomburg On my last day as king, I watched a dirty movie behind the couch. My father said I should get used to that sort of thing. I ate every last possible meal in the refrigerator. Those were great memories from...

National Poetry Month: PLASTICIZER 3 (LAND ROVER RANGE ROVER) (from Beijing Plasticizer) by Joyelle McSweeney

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 18, 2014 | Archive, Feature

Plasticizer 3 (Land Rover Range Rover) (from Beijing Plasticizer) by Joyelle McSweeney For trampling the thicket of thick chiclets clotted cream a dulcet emulsifier a tranquilizer moon the Emperor Penguin is dithering over which shoe to spoon place a goat...

National Poetry Month: I WANTED TO SAY WHERE I WAS NOT by Meghan M. Lee

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 17, 2014 | Archive, Feature

I wanted to say where I was not: a blackened nut, a crowded wood, the shored boat twisted green with weeds by Meghan M. Lee They made for themselves a house in pen&ink. What you can see. Red stocking feet cocked askance under the table. The dog leaned with...

National Poetry Month: ALL HOOVES AND TEETH by Jade Benoit

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 16, 2014 | Archive, Feature

All Hooves and Teeth by Jade Benoit My body is no way to behave. Last night, I fell asleep in my horse fur again and I’m sorry. I know my habits are getting out of hand but the animal sieved through me so deep I even wore my fur out in the rain and shed...

National Poetry Month: THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON by Danielle Pafunda

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 15, 2014 | Archive, Feature

The Dead Girls Speak in Unison by Danielle Pafunda THE DEAD GIRLS SPEAK IN UNISON Where’s our deady daddy? Where’s our dear dead dada man? We’re all dolled up. We’re curls and pearls and ruffled pants. We’ve tacked our skin back ontobones, and hissing roaches...