in good conscience he was unable to recommend a panama canal of any kind
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-David McCullough
Outside a woman reverses a green tractor up into the hillside where a small crowd of people gather to watch the Italian bees ― more docile than other bees ― fly into their new hive & I am on my belly in the attic with you in Argentina translating poems from Spanish. The death that came to get her was like an enormous gray pillow, I suggest. No, you say it was more like a soaked mattress, the kind with springs. It’s the wrong conversation. There was a woman so afraid of the dark, she slept inside her cello case. The night was less frightening because she could touch all of it. Metaphor is not the point of violence. Violence is. |
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Emily Vizzo is a writer, editor and educator whose work has appeared in FIELD, Blackbird, jubilat, North American Review, The Los Angeles Times, Next American City, and other publications. Her essay, “A Personal History of Dirt,” was honored as a notable essay in Best American Essays 2013, and she was selected for inclusion within Best New Poets 2015. Her chapbook, GIANTESS, is forthcoming in 2018 from YesYes Books.
Ayasha Guerin is an artist and writer based in Brooklyn. She is a Ph.D. candidate in New York University’s American Studies program and currently a research fellow at the Center for the Humanities. Her art and writing concern themes of the urban/natural, public and private space, ecology, community, and security. She shoots her analog photography on a Canon A-1 that has passed through three generations of her family.