At the Brooklyn Museum's Do Ho Suh’s "The Perfect Home II" with the literary salon, "Go Home!" the concept of a living space expanded.
An essay collection that speaks to personal experience while demonstrating broader truths about race in America.
Thom Gunn's work evokes an oozing liminality that is addressed in an interest in the body and masculinity—ranging from cowboys to Elvis.
A new edition of selected poems by Makoto Ooka, translated by Janine Beichman, is a treasure chest for lovers of Japanese poetry.
While disquieting scenes and creatures fill the pages, the most frightening parts are these casual references to real-world issues facing women.
It’s as if Mario Montalbetti is daring his reader to seek permanence in poetry’s aftermath, to maintain remembrance in spite of the difficulty.
Kathryn Harrison says, with a wink to the reader: “I feel no allegiance to this hypothetical child who complicates what is simple.”
Reading No Budu Please is like committing to the excavation of the continual traumas that occur within a post-colonial consciousness.
Reading Amparo Dávila’s stories is like accepting an invitation for tea at a haunted house.
As Smarsh unfolds her family's story, she offers sharp commentary on the structures that both shame the poor and perpetuate the cycle of poverty.
Nuruddin Farah has written a story about family, both the families we belong to by blood and the ones we forge for ourselves out of...
The book’s final line is a warning as much as an entreaty: “Don’t ever let them talk you out of being mad again.”