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Joseph Ross Reviews "let the dead in" Ross praises the new Saida Agostini collection in his review titled, "If You Love the Living, Get Saida Agostini's 'let the dead in'" Poet and critic, Joseph Ross, tackles the wrinkles and crevasses of Saida Agostini's maverick debut poetry collection, let the dead in. let the dead in, is an exploration of  the mythologies that seek to subjugate Black bodies, and the counter-stories that reject such subjugation. Audacious, sensual, and grieving, this work explores how Black women harness the fantastic to craft their own road to … [Read more...]

Elevator in the Brain Hotel By Richard Peabody Poetry ASP Bulletin | April 3, 2022 after> When we kiss   the tiny snake in my ear slithers out just so   to entwine the shiny snake in your ear.   You slip your pointy tongue behind my teeth   and our tiny snakes coil and rise between us   mirroring a double helix   or some science crap we're missing out on   because we cut class to kiss in the space   behind my locker where I have a pile   of pillows and a battery-operated   lantern.     When you open your eyes   and … [Read more...]

revisions to the catalogue of folktale types By Kathleen Hellen Poetry ASP Bulletin | April 3, 2022 < before after> 410 needs to be revised: "Once upon a time" needs to be once upon a time when you were dormant (not a doormat...) when you passed out in the tragedy intrinsic to awakening, when princes climbed the ladder princes think is manning like peyton quarterbacking, more a habit of the Grimm than subtle magic ™ with the wand that does the trick (shall I say it?)-of pleasuring. Why take chances   with happy ever after? With wicked exes? In-laws? Sisters? You have to … [Read more...]

Unreliable By Ellen White Rook Poetry ASP Bulletin | April 3, 2022 < before after> Maybe the poet killed someone and buried them on a night so dark she can't find the spot, just memories of stone on stone. Even the spade disappears in her driftwood hands, in the broken laths, in the crumbling foundation cramped with rampant daffodils.   Maybe she killed the poet and swallowed shreds of yeast and tears. Maybe she was a whale of oil-lit caverns, a palace for suffering biblical satisfaction. Maybe she birthed an orchard of discarded cores.   The poet wrote letters on a scrap … [Read more...]

Keep Your Dead Close By Leslie Pietrzyk  Essay ASP Bulletin | April 3, 2022 < before after> A story about my dead husband begins "I remember" or "remember how": "Remember how Robb stapled yellow-highlighted Xeroxes of restaurant listings for every driving trip, and we'd eat six different barbecues in one day, and he knew whether we should order chopped or ribs and if the hush puppies were famous, and how he'd go, 'Pecan pie here is worth belly space.'"             I want people to laugh at these stories, to nod in recognition. I'm practiced and tell the stories effectively. I quote … [Read more...]