Sadie Hoagland’s brings us a magic-realist tumble into a life of painful fragments, transformed by yearning, and frozen in a moment.
Liana Kapelke-Dale, explores sweetly feverish inversions of fairy tale endings, and is always seeking liberation, in her poem “Lead Into Gold.”
“They say / seven men and heavy ropes were needed / to bring me up. The gulls, they say, / cloud-hovered around the squalling, / unfurred thing, but never pecked. / They say they couldn’t find a priest or / even minister to baptize me.” Poet Devon Miller-Duggan makes her Fabulist debut with this haunting, vivid prose poem of sea changes rich and strange.
Gaurav Monga’s marvelous and strange fragments have the feel of being found as a sheaf of unbound, unnumbered pages in a yellowing envelope, laying perhaps on an otherwise empty shelf at the back on an abandoned safe-deposit vault. They tell of a lost city of self, ancient excavations, and half-glimpsed memory.
Jen Burke Anderson returns to The Fabulist with this biting little satire of our app-driven virtual society, and the blithe replacement of authentic human connections with market-driven user experiences.
“Carnations, Pigeons,” by Bainbridge Island poet Amanda Williamsen, finds a hapless heroine drifting skyward each night, her heaviness draining from her head like sand. Mornings, she wakes startled, fallen, back in bed. She wonders if her problem might be gas.