Apropos of writing an essay on the experience of plodding through a difficult time in my life, I have been thinking about what suffering means for the artist. The process of writing that essay, as one would expect, was a dark affair layered with distress and pain. I wrote in spurts, never steadily, as both …
Glissade
The poet wakes in the middle of the night to find that his room, Barely enough for his lean body, is a megacity for the little Inhabitants. Roaches are going and coming, each one with A different sense of urgency, some slow as clumps of dew, Others civil servants in love with the import of …
If Nigeria ever happened to anyone, it happened to John Pepper Clark-Bekederemo (1935—2020). He was the type of poet to thrive in an environment where he is unbound to an allegiance—to state, tribe, or ideological position—beyond language and the insights language allowed him get out of his experience. Clark-Bekederemo was an eccentric, content to be …
“It wasn’t until Gabriel squeezed away what was empty in him that the Prophet could be filled with miracle.” —Kaveh Akbar, ‘The Miracle’ 1. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out with a soft drag, afraid it’ll slip out of the soft of your hand onto the hardness of the …