FENCE

menu
  • Donate
  • submit
  • subscribe
  • publications
    • magazine
    • books
    • steaming
    • fence digital
    • constant critic
    • fence sounds
    • elecment
  • People
  • about
    • about
    • Fence Editorial Guidelines and Code of Conduct
    • The Fence Calendar
    • Fence Social
    • History
  • Subscribe
  • Membership
  • Magazine
  • Books
  • Steaming
  • Elecment
  • Constant Critic
  • Fence Sounds podcast
  • Submit
  • About
  • People
  • History

Poetic Statement 1-10

Dawn Lundy Martin

1. On the knees sucking a pestle. [Gripped in particular horrors: the stinked history of other inappropriate drills— being a girl.] Becomes revolving locale, cataclysmic obsession, a time-warp nightmare. In motel rooms: a ditty, a slim filth; asking questions such as when does one become whole, gentle whore? [Unfillable state.] 2. Which language rankles? Unsettling […]

Black Took Collective’s Call for Dissonance

Duriel E. Harris, Dawn Lundy Martin, Ronaldo V. Wilson

FOUNDED: 1999 LOCATION: CAVE CANEM RETREAT FOR AFRICAN AMERICAN POETS, ESOPUS, NY At Cave Canem each year, a suite of black poets are invited to a castle to write poems. One night in 1999, we who have become Black Took called the other fellows down into the dungeon to begin to create an alternative sphere […]

from DEEPSTEP COME SHINING

C.D. Wright

Oncet  after a heavy rain he come back  at daybreak threw down a few dollars and cents alongside a set     of pretty glass eyes into a little dish on the dresser flopped crosswise on the bed and slept I started to write              I feel lost here and I’m […]

from FOUR PERSONAL ADDRESSES

Mahmoud Darwish

1. One square meter of prison.

Juicy Salute

Hajara Quinn

I hate it when you drive but I love being a passenger My hands in my lap are curled like two shrimp A maternal feeling, fleetingly A phalanx of pines fleecefully Pines and firs and ferns falling to in the rear view & large-winged birds crossing paths in the sunroof, two cursors enskied My dread […]

When I Kissed July

Thomas Devaney

The room was with me— the subway tile, my railway kitchen, the window plant too. I didn’t look. I tore off June, went directly to it. I’ve been murdered and plowed under, all the above, all the way. To die and to know you died, it’s worse than death to die this way. Someone neutral […]

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
  • 6
  • 7
  • …
  • 37
  • Next Page »
Contacts: Emily Wallis Hughes and Jason Zuzga at fence.fencebooks@gmail.com