What prayer and poetry have in common is that they both must be revised. I think people need to witness what they are actually saying in their prayers.
In a business full of paranoiacs and would-be messiahs, William Cooper is the prototype: the insider-turned-outsider, the radio show host behind a movement.
Asghar returns to this: Wounds are inevitable, and much of life is looking to story for closure—at least comfort. There’s an energy to her sense of elegy.
O’Leary’s project is ambitious: “The work of these poets suggests that a secular art, even in a secular age, is insufficient for representing reality completely. There must be sacred art. For poets, this means there must be religious poetry written.”
Scorched, palpable, sometimes pungent, sometimes brutal: Karr’s new collection is a mixture of tight narratives that end without resolution, hymns of unsettled suffering, and confused prayers.
If I’m trying to capture a nuanced emotion, I turn to poetry. When I suspect there is an insight to be gained that could potentially contribute to the discourse around a particular issue, I bring my essay game.