comment 0

and 6 ft apart on a bench, rhubarb chutney, sorrel, OR, 2 new poems in Ethel Zine #8

Ethel Zine # 8, this sown marvel, holds some new poems.

These are the first poems I’ve written and published all during this pandemic. Jay Besemer’s poem “The Wound” helped me recover from some of that damage. Thank you, Jay.

A figure behind this poem, is my friend Jeremy, who I went on a bike ride with during the height of the lock downs. We went from my house in Hamlin Park in Buffalo south, down Rohrer. We weren’t pedaling to get anywhere. Just to talk. Part of the job of these fugue poems is to find an ease of being in place, those currents of it, in a place like Buffalo, which is often a difficult city. They are also an aesthetic expression of my mental disorder these past several years. Make it sound good, you know.

Laurie Saurborn, Stephanie Powell, & Laura Ring, among others, also wrote things in here I enjoyed. Can you imagine all the work Sara Lefsyk sunk into putting these together, perforation & thread? Support Ethel, if you can.

Filed under: Poems in Print

About the Author

Posted by

Joe Hall is the author of five books of poetry, including Someone's Utopia (2018) and Fugue & Strike (forthcoming). His poems, reviews, and scholarship have appeared in Poetry Daily, The Academy of American Poets Poem-A-Day, Postcolonial Studies, Peach Mag, terrain.org, PEN America Blog, Poetry Northwest, Ethel Zine, Gulf Coast, Best Buds! Collective, and Eighteenth-Century Fiction. He has taught poetry workshops for teachers, teens, and workers through Just Buffalo and the WNYCOSH Worker Center.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s