Hank: a book review
I have no love (nor hate, to be fair) for country music or folk singers, and zero involvement in their history. I have, therefore, no idea who Hank...
How We Respond is What It Means
In this time it is impossible not to love
at least one monster. Venom laces the air,
you are in a house with
the feeling of every light in...
Early in the Field
Early in the field—
I trace horizon where field makes horizon
gnashed with earth, scavenge for pieces in rubble...
Blunt Not the Heart
But there was one thought that he couldn’t shake from his mind. He pictured Peg with bloodied, four-fingered hands trying helplessly to pick up her own thumbs....
Jericho Brown’s PLEASE
As books of poems go, Please, Jericho Brown’s first book, is especially unconcerned with subtlety. This is the book’s biggest weakness, though also perhaps...
Brain Damage
I remember once I clung to a massive accordion-folded curtain in a hotel in Boston, looking out at dangerous weather sweeping in off the Atlantic. My room was...
It Doesn’t Happen Often–But Should We Look At It?
Young children, ages 8-11, were swimming out into the bay, disappearing under the water, and swimming back to the beach where they displayed their tiny...
Gold Without Warning–a three day poetry festival
GWW is a three-day festival of capital-region poets, and features a number of past Phoebe contributors, as well as a few current or former staffers. More details at
My Father at the Mountainside
A whole Saturday I walked back and forth across our slick garage floor to hear those magnificent heels clop. I mouthed the word gambol over and over, mouthed...