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P O E T RY

| F I C T I O N | E S S AY S | R E V I E W S

FALL 2011 ISSUE | VOL. 61, NO. 2

PUNCTILIOUS WHIMSY SINCE 1948


The Carolina Quarterly is published three times per year at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Subscription rates are $24 per year to individuals and $30 to institutions. Current single issues, back issues, and sample copies are $9 each. Remittance must be made by money order or check payable in U.S. funds. Numbers issued before Volume 21 (1969) can be ‘²Yb²bYn²‘Š²8Ă‚Âľ*bÂ?²€Â?½ ‘¢V*‘½b˜Ă?Ă?V€‡‡É‘‘YV5˜Ă?psš¢€O²‘o‡Š reproduction of single articles and issues can be obtained from University €O²‘o‡Š¾Â?½b²Â?8½€‘Â?8‡VžĂ?Ă?¢7bbF*‘8YVĂ?Â?Â?Ă?²F‘²Vsg˜Ă?š¢ The Carolina QuarterlyÉb‡O‘ŠbÂľ¾ÂFŠ€¾¾€‘Â?Âľ‘nĂ‚Â?Â?Ă‚F‡€¾}bYoO½€‘Â?VÂ?‘b½²ËV Â?‘Â?oO½€‘Â?V F‘‘† ²bĂˆÂ€bɾV 8Â?Y u²8Â?}€O 8²½¢ 8Â?Ă‚ÂľO²€Â?½¾ 8Â?Y bY€½‘²€8‡ ‘² business correspondence should be addressed to the appropriate genre editor at The Carolina Quarterly, Greenlaw Hall CB #3520, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, NC 27599-3520. No manuscript can be returned nor query answered unless accompanied by a stamped, self-addressed envelope; no responsibility for loss or damage will be assumed. We are also now accepting submissions through our website. We do not review manuscripts during the Š‘Â?½}Âľ‘n8Ă‹VĂ‚Â?bV‡ËV8Â?YĂ?Ă‚u¾½¡n‘²Š8Â?Ă‚ÂľO²€Â?½¾¾ÂFŠ€½½bYY²€Â?u½}b rest of the year, please allow up to four months for response. The Carolina Quarterly €¾ €Â?YbĂŠbY €Â? ½}b ‘‘† *bĂˆÂ€bÉ Â?YbĂŠV (‘bŠ €Â?Yb²V Â?YbĂŠ½‘(b²€‘Y€O8‡€O½€‘Â?VŠ8Â?€½€bÂľÂ?½b²Â?8½€‘Â?8‡ ‘ŠÂ?‡b½bV8Â?Y½}bĂ?Â?Â?Ă‚8‡ Bibliography of English Language and Literature. Member Coordinating

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O N L I N E AT

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FICTION EDITORS

ASSISTANT EDITORS

POETRY EDITOR

(}€‡+8�Y€O†

Bhumi Dalia

Matthew Harvey

Lindsay Starck

Heather Van Wallendael

Lee Norton

Noah Katz NON-FICTION EDITOR €O†��Yb²Š8�

WEB EDITOR COVER DESIGN

Ted Scheinman

(}€‡€�Obb

Matthew Hotham | E D I TO R- I N - C H I E F , *+U+}8Â?Â?‘Â? b8Š‘Â?V€²¾½bÂ? }8Â?uV+O‘½½ 8ĂˆÂ€ÂľV8Â?Â?8} ‘O†b²ËV8Â?YĂ‹ €Y¾‘Â?Vb‡¾bĂ‹‘¾½b²V bu8Â?8²‡bĂ‹V‘²Y8Â?‘Â?¾‘Â?V²€¾½bÂ?‘}Â?¾‘Â?VĂ?‡€Ob8²½€Â?V bÂ?€‡‡b²VÂ€ĂˆÂ€8b‡¾‘Â?V(b˽‘Â?*€‡bĂ‹V Kevin Rothenberg, Liana Roux, Rachel Shope, Brittany Spruill, Nathan Vail, and William Wright FICTION READERS: 8²8 bÂ?Â?b½½Vb‡¾bĂ‹‘¾½b²VĂ?‡€Ob8²½€Â?VÂ€ĂˆÂ€8b‡¾‘Â?V8Yb‡€Â?b*8¾†Â‡€Â?bOĂŽV b²²‘Y*‘¾bÂ?F8ŠV bÂ?,}‘ŠÂ?¾‘Â?V78O}8²Ë2b²Â?‘Â?V¢8Š8²3€‡¾‘Â?V8Â?Y8½b5‘ÂÂ?u POETRY READERS: Katy Bowler, Taylor Burklew, Melissa Golding, and Rachel Kiel NON-FICTION READERS: Š€‡Ë 8Â?†¾V€²¾½bÂ? }8Â?uV8Â?YĂ‹ €Y¾‘Â?V‘Â?8½}8Â?(8½½€¾}8‡‡V8Â?Y ²€½½8Â?Ă‹+Â?²Â€‡‡

FOUNDED IN 1948 AT T H E U N I V E R S I T Y O F N O RT H C A R O L I N A – C H A PAEULTH HO I LRL N A M E

3


CONTENTS FALL 2011 | VOL. 61, NO. 2

P O E T RY 12

ANGIE MACRI | Abide

14

CHRIS DUNSMORE | Reality Orientation

I Couldn’t Tell What Happened 30

AMORAK HUEY | The Men at the Block Party

The Globe of Death Motorcyclist Faces His Worst Spheres The Letter X Imagines His Funeral Precautions Against Altitude Sickness 63

JOE GALLAGHER | Delta of Lost Hippos

Unsmoothly 67

CLAIRE WAHMANHOLM | Postcard from the Great Wall

Family Portrait: Red Square North 88

STEPHANIE E. SCHLAIFER | From the Old Northwest

Swath Native Plants and Animals 96

MAMIE MORGAN | Them, Hardly

Her Ninth Wintering Flocking

FICTION 7

NAHAL S. JAMIR | In Perfect English

18

JAMES GORDON BENNETT | Entanglement

74

AARON GWYN | Sweet Relief


CONTEST 42

FIRST PLACE: JAMES MCFATTER | American Desire

44

RUNNER-UP: MATTHEW VOLLMER | epitaph #26

46

RUNNER-UP: COURTNEY SENDER | Lift

47

HONORABLE MENTION: AARON KROL | Conditions

48

HONORABLE MENTION: CAROLINE YOUNG | Catastrophilia

INTERVIEW 51

AMY HEMPEL

| The Poem Lust I Still Have

REVIEWS 104

JASMINE V. BAILEY | Devotions by Bruce Smith

A RT 6

JUSTIN RAMSEY | The Ugly Swan Up Above It All

11

JUSTIN RAMSEY | Super Nova Siren

17

JUSTIN RAMSEY | Exclamation Station

34

JENNIFER D. ANDERSON | Seven Engrams

57

KUDU-LAH | €Èb ²€½½b²µ

66

JUSTIN RAMSEY | Contemplation Station

73

DARIC GILL | Comparison

103

JUSTIN RAMSEY | Channeling

106

Contributors


JUSTIN RAMSEY

6

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| The Ugly Swan Up Above It All


N A HA L S . JA MIR

In Perfect English Minutes ago, the mother began cooking. The kitchen is already o‡‡bYɀ½}8bO‡bO½€O‘Y‘²Vµ}8²8YµÉbb½8½½}bµ8Šb½€ŠbV½}‘Âu}½}b µŠb‡‡‘nbuu‡8½Y‘Š€8½bµ¢8µ}‘²½É}€‡bVµ}bɀ‡‡o€µ}½}bYbµµb²½¢ +}bFbu8½}bYbµµb²½Y8˵8u‘¢ЇŠ‘YµVF‘€‡bY8Ybb‡bYFË}8YV‡8Ë drying in the laundry room. Odd to begin with the end of the meal, but the end is the best part, where everything makes sense. The mother has been watching her children, one boy and one girl, +8Š€8YÐÎ8²Vµ€Ob½}bY8Ëb8O}O8Šb‘½‘n}b²F‘YËi8Yb8O}Y€Y so quickly, like lightning from a cloud. They struck her down. She hadn’t Fbb8F‡b½‘½‘ÂO}½}bŠ8½o²µ½FbO8µb‘nnb8²‘²V8µ½}bY‘O½‘²µµ8€YV numbness. She didn’t see much of a difference between fear and numbness; one was the cause, the other the effect. Regardless, in the beginning, she could only look. Not until much later did love accompany the watching, but she will never tell because a mother is supposed to love from the beginning. The secret allows her to be a proper mother. The children are out on the porch, which is green like a wine bottle, long like a ship. There is an old practice of putting ships in bottles. +}‘‡Y µ}b F€Y }b² O}€‡Y²b ½}µ¨ ЇÉ8˵ ½}b²b F½ 8‡É8˵ ²b8YË ½‘ ‡b8Èb¢½¯µ}8²Y½‘†‘ÉÉ}b²b½}bn²8u€‡€½Ë‡€bµU€ɑ‘Y‘²u‡8µµV€µ½€‡‡ness or motion. Will it be home or the outside world that kills them? They’re outside so her son can smoke. She wishes he wouldn’t but is glad the children are home. They come back rarely, and she cannot recall the last time she cooked for someone other than her husband. He is sleeping upstairs. He doesn’t eat enough. But the children, since leaving home, have developed appetites twice as large as the ones they left with. They return ravenous, and she cannot decide if their hunger emerges from a lack of sustenance or insatiability. Regardless, she will feed them. Nourishment is what children should receive at home. They return to remember that they should not starve, that she will not let them.

NAHAL S. JAMIR

7


C H RIS D UN SMOR E

I Couldn’t Tell What Happened There is a metaphoric truth fundamental to the subject’s experience within the narrative structure of his or her life story, ²bu8²Y‡bµµ‘n€½µoO½€‘8‡b‡bŠb½µ‘²½}b½Ëb‘nµ½‘²Ë½‘‡Y¢ ,}b ‘½}b² €u}½h O‘‡Y¯½ ½b‡‡ É}8½ }8bbY¢ 5‘ Y€Y¯½ †‘É what had happened. He didn’t know why she just blanked out, so they O‘‡Y¯½ bʝ‡8€ €½ ½‘ Šb¢ 3b Éb²b …µ½ ob 8Y ½8‡†€u ½‘ ˑÂi8Y then all of a sudden he didn’t recognize her voice anymore. They didn’t ²bO‘u€ÎbŠb¢+‘½}²bb½}€uµµ½8²½bY½‘}8b8‡‡8½‘ObUÉbY€Y¯½²bO‘u€ÎbˑÂV}bY€Y¯½²bO‘u€Îb}b²V8Y½}b€²Š‘ŠÉ8µO}‘†€uŠb¢ЍY bÈb²Ë½}€u u‘½ ½‘‘ }‘½· Éb µ½8²½bY nbb‡€u µ€O†· ˑ Éb²b ½b²²€obY¢ b wasn’t sure where she was; they weren’t sure it was me there; we weren’t µÂ²bÉ}‘ˑÂÉb²b·}bÉ8µ¯½µÂ²b8F‘½8Ë½}€u¢ЍYµ}bO‘‡Y¯½µ8Ë what was happening because they didn’t know what was happening. ,}€µµ½8²½bY½‘}8b€ŠË€½b²È€bÉŠbb½€u½‘‘¢½¯µFbb}8b€u ‘Èb²8Y‘Èb²¢‘½8‡‡½}²bb½}€uµi…µ½‘²Š‘ŠO}‘†€uˑ¢ ‘É}b½}€†µµ}b†‘ɵÉ}8½€½Š€u}½¯ÈbFbb¢,}b˽}€††‘É what somehow set this off. Earlier in the session, we were looking at your arms, and he thought, “She has strong arms. Their arms could O}‘†bŠb¢­3bɑ‡Y¯½Y‘€½Vˑ†‘ÉV}b½²Âµ½µ}b²VF½½}bËO‘‡Y¢ ¯ŠbÈbµ½²‘ub²½}8‘²Š‘½}b²¢ ‘¯½FbŠ8Y8½ˑ²µb‡n¢

16

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY


A MORA K H UEY

The Men at the Block Party We linger naked as beer bottles, searching for words that taste of smoke or gravel. We gaze with lost eyes 8½‘²ɀÈbµV½}b€²‡buµ¢ ²O}€‡Y²bU8‡bµ½²b8†µV½€Ëo²bµ at the edge of our vision. We are keepers of a ghost ship }b²b€½}bb8²‡Ë½Éb½Ëo²µ½Ob½Â²Ë€Њb²€O8U this time and place reserved precisely for us. We try ‘½½‘FbY€µ8‘€½bY€½}bFbY€u‘nq‘Éb²µV the bare spots where our grass will not grow. Our veins rope and pulse and promise, give voice to the dangers that languish unspoken in our bodies. 3bnb8²F²‘†bɀY‘ÉVn²8ÂYVÉboY}8€bµµ in the syncopation of weather and family schedules. The moon unmoors. We drift toward its yawn.

30

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY


Precautions Against Altitude Sickness My brain is altar, fuse, noise. Time periscopes and straddles. 8Š88²O}€½bO½¯µ²bYb²€u¢ 8Š}€u}n8µ}€‘VO€²O‡8²µ½8€²O8µbV ²‘‘n½‘u8²Yb¢8Šˑ²n8ȑ²€½bµbO²b½¢ 8Š8½²8€Š‘È€uµ‡‘É‡Ë through a strange country. One with thin air, whitecapped mountains. Home to many towns full of chocolate where interesting people fall in love over bottles of wine, cups of strong coffee, µÂ8‡8µ½²€bµ¢ЍY½}b‘bY8Ë the quaint gaslights on main street fail, and in this dark your eyes blaze like pennies. This is the opposite of lonely.

AMORAK HUEY

33


JENNIFER D. ANDERSON

34

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| Engram: Holiness


JENNIFER D. ANDERSON

40

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| Engram: Sisterly


Riding a Gradient Invisible Contest Winners of The Carolina Quarterly’s*€Y€Â?u8²8Y€bÂ?½Â?ĂˆÂ€ÂľÂ€F‡b ‘Â?½b¾½U First Place:ÂŹĂ?Šb²€O8Â? b¾€²b­FĂ‹8ŠbÂľO8½½b² Runner-up:ÂŹ€n½­FĂ‹ ‘²½Â?bĂ‹+bÂ?Yb² Runner-up:ÂŹbÂ?€½8Â?}à š­FĂ‹8½½}bÉ2‘‡‡Šb² Honorable Mention:ÂŹ ‘Â?Y€½€‘Â?¾­FĂ‹Ă?8²‘Â?²‘‡ Honorable Mention: ÂŹ 8½8¾½²‘Â?}€‡€8­FĂ‹ 8²‘‡€Â?b5‘ÂÂ?u Â? 8Ă‹V Éb Ă‚Â?Ăˆb€‡bY ½}b *€Y€Â?u 8 ²8Y€bÂ?½ Â?ĂˆÂ€ÂľÂ€F‡b ‘Â?½b¾½V 8Â? bĂŠÂ?b²€ŠbÂ?½ €Â? ÂŹ+}‘ÉV Y‘Â?¯½ ½b‡‡¢­ 3b 8¾†bY ˑ ½‘ ÂľbÂ?Y Ă‚Âľ ˑ² Â?‘b½€O q8Âľ} oO½€‘Â?V ˑ²q8Âľ}Ă‹Â?²‘¾bÂ?‘b½²ËVˑ²½É€½½b²‘Â?b²b½½8Vˑ²Â?‘¾½Â?²bÂ?b‘Ă‚Â?‘bĂ‚ĂˆÂ˛b½‘ Fb O‘Â?¾€Yb²bY n‘² Â?Ă‚F‡€O8½€‘Â? FĂ‹ Ă?Ă‚u¾½ Â˜ÂľÂ˝Â˘ 5b8²Â?€Â?u n‘² 8 Â?‘¾½ubÂ?²b ɑ²‡YV we sought writing that could not be described in an elevator, and yet could be YbÂ‡Â€Ăˆb²bY€Â?‘Â?b¢ 8O}bĂŠÂ?b²€ŠbÂ?½O‘‡Y}8ĂˆbÂ?‘Š‘²b½}8Â?pĂ?Ă?ɑ²Y¾¢Ă?‡‡ɀÂ?ners of this contest are published in this issue on the following pages and will be featured in our online edition. ,}bÂ…Ă‚Yubn‘²½}€¾O‘Â?½b¾½É8ÂľĂ?ŠËbŠÂ?b‡¢bŠÂ?b‡€¾½}b ²€uuÂľ ‘Â?b‡8Â?Y bO½Â²b² €Â? €O½€‘Â? 8½ 8Â˛Ăˆ8²Y -Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½ËV ½}b 8½}‘² ‘n oĂˆb Âľ}‘²½ ¾½‘²Ë collections, and the editor of New Stories from the South 2010: The Year’s Best. +}b€¾½}b²bO€Â?€bÂ?½‘n½}b‘F¾‘Â?Ă?É8²YV€Â?8YY€½€‘Â?½‘8Ă‚uubÂ?}b€Šb‡‡‘Éship, and has taught at New York University, Saint Mary’s College, University of Missouri, Bennington College in Vermont, and The New School University in New York City. Congratulations to the winners of The Carolina Quarterly’s 2011 Riding a ²8Y€bÂ?½Â?ĂˆÂ€ÂľÂ€F‡b ‘Â?½b¾½¢,}8Â?†¾½‘8‡‡É}‘bÂ?½b²bY¢,}8Â?†¾8ÂľÉb‡‡½‘Ă?ŠË Hempel for reading and judging.

41


J AM ES M CFAT TER

American Desire  bbY Š‘Šb½ÂŠ¢  bbY YbOb½ O‘‘†É8²b ɀ½} Š€€ŠÂŠ µ}€b¢  bbY 8 ²bO} µË½}bµ€Îb² ɀ½} Š8ʀŠÂŠ µ‘Y8‡½b²€u ‘½b½€8‡¢  bbYoub²µbbY¢bbYF²b8†bO†8Obµ¢bbY8€½€uµ‘nn‘²bµ½µFË ²b½€²bY8²†²8ub²µ8Y‘²½²8€½µ‘nŠËu²b8½Ѝ½‘8¢bbY½}€µ8Y ½}8½¢bbY½}b½}€uµŠËŠ‘ŠŠ8bÈb²u8ÈbŠb¢bbY‡8†bµɀ½}‘½ ²€‡bµV O8†bµ ɀ½}‘½ O8Y‡bµV Yˍ8µ½€bµ ½‘ ²b8µµbŠF‡b 8Y q‘²€µ}¢  need to know the truth about cannonballs. bbYˑ½‘‡‘‘†8½ŠbÉ}b¯Š½8‡†€u¢bbY8‡‡ŠËO}8ub€ Y€Šbµ¢bbY8‘½}b²u‘‘Y‡‘‘†8½½}8½b8u‡b‘nn²bbY‘Š¢bbYF8†bY beans and beer; mpegs and bling bling¢bbY½}²bbn8‡µbµ½8½bŠb½µ½‘ Fb²bn½bY¢bbYF€ȑO8½€‘8‡Â²µbµ½‘½bYŠËɑYµ8Y½²€ŠŠË mouse-ear chickweed¢  bbY 8 bÉ }²8µb ½‘ YbµO²€Fb ŠË 8ÂY8O€‘µ ²€FO8ub¢bbY½‘FÂ˵½‘O†8YbbY½‘FÂ˵O‘bµ8YbbY½‘FÂË ‡€‘‡bŠ½€‡bµ¢bbY½Éb½Ë½É‘8²ŠbYŠb¢ bbY}€u}Ybo€½€‘¢bbYŠËµ€u8½Â²b‘Y‘½½bY‡€bµ¢bbY a pamphlet on angels with a foreword by Bono¢bbY‘bŠ‘²b‘Èb‡ µb½€Ob‡8Y¢bbY€O€O‡bµV…b‡‡ËFb8µV²‘µbb½8‡µVŠ€½O€u8²µV8Y‘O½8u‘8‡+ÉbY€µ}Y€b²‡8½bµ¢bbY}8‡n²€ObYµ½‘O†€uµn‘²½}b‡8Y€bµ¢ bbY}‘b¢bbYˑ½‘Yb²µ½8YŠbO‡b8²‡Ë¢bbYŠ‘²bµÂµ}€b 8YŠ‘²bO‘µbµÂµ8YŠ‘²bO‘Ob½Â8‡µb8µO8bµ¢bbYb‘‡bɀ½} Š‘b˽‘µÂ²²‘YŠb¢bbY½‘²Â‡b½}b²‘‘µ½¢bbY8‡‘u8‘‡‘uË from my father. bbY8½}€u‘²½É‘¢bbY½‘8½½bY8Armageddon conference. bbY8†€O†µ½8²½8Y8†€O†µ½8Y8Y8µÉ€n½†€O†€½}b8½µ¢bbY ½‘}‘‘½}8½n²b€u}½½²8€½‘u‡‘²Ë¢bbY½‘u€Èb8É8ËŠËNeil Diamond 8‡FŠµ¢bbYŠ8Ë½}€uµ¢bbY8‡€½½‡bF€½‘n}ub²8Y8‡€½½‡b F€½‘nµÉb8½¢bbYo²bbʽ€u€µ}b²µFbb8½}8‡‡O€½Ëµ½8€²Éb‡‡µ¢bbY }b8Y8O}bµ 8Y }b8²½8O}bµ 8Y F‡‘‘Yµ}bY· ½}b 8½}b²V ½}b +‘V 8Y ½}b Holy Ghost.

42 JAMES MCFATTER | First Place


bbY½}bo²µ½½}€u½}8½O‘Šbµ½‘Š€Y¢bbYˑÂ8YŠb8Y8‡‡ ½}b‘½}b²µ¢bbY8µbO‘YO}8Ob¢bbY8F‘ɽ€b½‘Š8½O}ŠË‡‘Èb²¯µ †b²O}€bnV8YbbY½‘O‡b8½}bu½½b²µbÈb²Ën‘²½€u}½¢bbY8n²€bY¢  bbY 8‘½}b² }‘‡€Y8Ë Fb½Ébb ,}8†µu€È€u 8Y }²€µ½Š8µ¢  bbY 8 Y€µ}‘bµ½‘€€‘¢bbY8‡€½½‡b}b8Èb8Y}‘¢ bbY8É8Ë‘½¢bbY8€O†b‡n‘²bÈb²Ë½€Šb¯ÈbµbY½}bɑ²Y persnickety¢bbY½}€µY²‘Âu}½½‘bYV½}€µ‡8uÂb½‘Ob8µbV½}€µŠ8‡8€µb ½‘8µµ‘Èb²‘²O}€‡Y²b¢bbY8 €È€‡38²²bb8O½Šb½8½Y8ɍ¢bbY b²€µO‘bµ8Y²8Y8²8YY€8Š‘Yµ€½}b²‘Âu}¢bbY½‘FbO‘½bY 8Š‘u½}bF‘bF²‘†bV½}bF²8Èb¢bbY½‘F²b8½}bµ‡‘ɇËV½‘²b8YFb½Ébb½}b‡€bµ¢bbY½‘ub½‡Ë‡‘Éb²ŠË‘8²µ€½‘½}bÉ8½b²µ¢

Amy Hempel: ¬ÐŠb²€O8 bµ€²b­‡‘O†bY€½‘½}b²8Y(²€Îb‘µ€½€‘‘o²µ½²b8Y€uV€½µ position strengthened by every subsequent reading. “I need”—this is the way nearly every sentence begins, and I have rarely seen anaphora used to such good effect. It made me think of the Joe Brainard memoir,*bŠbŠFb², and Rick Moody’s story “She Forgot.” This story is constantly surprising, yet always logical on its own terms. The narrator’s wideranging needs embrace the formal and colloquial, the deeply personal and the universal, all the while redeeming clichés and exploiting particularities. The story is impressionistic, associative, rhythmical, and lyrical. It is often funny: “I need a pamphlet on angels with a foreword by Bono. I need one more novel set in Iceland.” And startling: “I need to be counted among the bone-broken, the brave.” There is anger here, and whimsy, and clearbËbY‘Fµb²È8½€‘V½‘½}bo8‡¬bbY­ɀ½}€½µŠ‘È€uµ€Š‡€O€½Ë¢¬ÐŠb²€O8 bµ€²b­€µ an immensely assured and memorable story that deepens each time you read it.

43


MAT T HE W VOLLMER

epitaph #26 this grave contains all that was mortal of a man who once hydroplaned on highway 76 through Hiawassee Georgia after exceeding the speed limit in the rain the car spinning in slowmo everything silver and streaks of ruby taillights the car crossing the median and swinging into a lane where the deceased braced himself for the impending impact of an oncoming semi he predicted would crush his body to roadside jelly but suddenly the car after having completed a three hundred and sixty degree turn came to a stop in the middle turning lane facing the direction he had been traveling and he had no words for what had just happened except that it felt like a miracle like angels had descended or the hand of G-D had reached down and sideswiped him out into the safety of the turn lane no doubt about it this would be something he would tell his grandO}€‡Y²b8F‘½F½o²µ½}bɑ‡Y½Ëb½}bµ½‘²Ë8YµbY€½½‘8ˑ½} magazine distributed by his church and in the story he would talk about being the kind of person who had not believed in miracles had never trusted stories like the one about the old woman who was sick during a Šbu8F‡€ÎÎ8²Y8Y½}b²bn‘²b8F‡b½‘½bY½‘}b²o²b‘²²b½²€bÈbɑ‘Y but then a tall stranger appeared at her door and without saying a word ²bµ½‘O†bY}b²ɑ‘Y€‡b8Y‡8€Y8o²b8Y‡€½€½8Y‘Ob}b¯Y‡bn½µ}b¯Y hobbled to the door and looked out and found no footprints in the snow a phrase that would not only serve as this story’s title but would provide ½}b µÂnoO€b½ bȀYbOb ½}8½ ½}b Š8 }8Y Fbb 8 8ub‡ µb½ FË   8 conclusion which before the hydroplaning incident would have caused the deceased to roll his eyes but now caused him to rethink his position on angels only he sort of felt like a phony once he saw it printed in the magazine because even though he couldn’t explain how or why his body hadn’t been spread across the highway he also still had some unanswered angel related questions like what about the innocent victims of rapists and predators and warmongers and directors of genocide where had those people’s guardian angels been and was it true that if the deceased

44 MATTHEW VOLLMER | Runner-up


entered a movie theater would his guardian angel stand outside the door and weep until he emerged which was something that the prophetess and one of the founders of the particular church he had been raised in taught because while he wasn’t sure about guardian angels he was fairly certain that angels should they actually exist would not boycott theaters since what were movies but representations and who made them but artists and were artists bad and if so did angels stand outside the homes of artists weeping no the deceased thought he didn’t think so or at least he hoped with all his heart that this was not so

Amy Hempel: The headlong quality of “epitaph #26” propelled it into a runner-up position. This long single sentence spotlights a man’s faith as he questions his beliefs in the wake of a dramatic near-miss on a highway in the rain. The style—run-on, unpunctuated— €µ8Š8½O}n‘²½}bO‘½b½·€½²bqbO½µ½}b8½Â²b‘nµÂO}88‡Š‘µ½8OO€Yb½½}8½µbbŠµ½‘ occur in slow motion AND in regular time. This story has the true feel of all that might run through someone’s mind as it believes it is facing the last moments of life, with, somehow, time enough even then to puzzle out mysteries and entertain hopes.

45


CO U RT NE Y S ENDER

Lift ,}bOb€‡€u€½}bY€€u²‘‘Š€µ¯½ɑ²†€u¢½¯µFbbO8Ȁu€8‡‡ Y8ËVɑ‘YbFb8ŠµF‘É€u½‘½}bq‘‘²‡€†bu²8O€‘µF½‡b²µ¢ We watched giddily over breakfast as the beam directly over the banquet table began to curve downward in the middle. ¬(b²}8µÉbµ}‘‡YO8‡‡8O‘½²8O½‘²V­‘½}b²µ8€YVµ‘µ}bY€Y¢b came and nailed the rafter back in place, told us that the heat can do that µ‘²½‘n½}€u½‘ɑ‘YUbʝ8Y½}bµ8ObFb½Ébb€½µ8½‘Šµ¢ But the ceiling swooned out of place again that afternoon, dipping to a height just above our heads. ¬(b²}8µÉbµ}‘‡YO8‡‡88²O}€½bO½V­8½}b²µÂuubµ½bYVµ‘}bY€Y¢ He came and bent the beam back into shape and told us that humidity can do that sort of thing to wood, warp its contours. But it swooped downward that evening, onto the table this time, knocking a bowl of gravy right into the mashed potatoes. ¬(b²}8µ Éb µ}‘‡Y O8‡‡ 8 ½}b²8€µ½V­ ‡Yb² ²‘½}b² …‘†bYV 8Yi …µ½€O8µbi}bY€Y¢+}bµ8½bʽ½‘½}b½8F‡bO8…‘‡€u½}bFb8ŠF8O†½‘ the ceiling, and it stretched slowly upward. Stress can do that sort of thing to wood, she said, make it lose its will. But by nightfall the rafter had dropped all the way to the carpet, O²8µ}€u½}²‘Âu}½}b½8F‡b8Y‘½‘½}bq‘‘²¢¬,}b²b€µ‘‘bb‡µb½‘ O8‡‡V­½}bu²‘ɍµO‘ObYbYVµ‘½}b˝½‘½}b€²Y²bµµ€uu‘ɍµ8Y went to sleep. ЍY ½}b O}€‡Y²b O‡€ŠFbY ‘½ ‘n FbY 8Y Éb µ8½ ‘ ½}b µÂYYb wooden swing, and without any hammering or sanding or coaxing, it rose from the ground and lifted us up to the sky.

Amy Hempel: “Lift,” the other runner-up, is a modern fable. A ceiling beam above a family’s dining room table dips lower despite a succession of attentions by experts with their various interpretations. It is not until the children act that we see how their simple, appreciative take on the situation brings the beam—and the story—to a higher purpose.

46 COURTNEY SENDER | Runner-up


A ARON K ROL

Conditions Ї‡½}²‘Âu}½}bY8Ë8ŠȀµ€½bYFËu}‘µ½µ½}8½Y‘‘½Šbb½¢‘É ɑ‡Y‡€†b½‘€½²‘YÂOb½}b…€‡½bY‡‘Èb²€½}bµ€‡Èb²É8²bY²8Éb²½‘½}b groom standing stiff in his ragged tuxedo behind the bathroom mirror; how the orphans cradled in the sofa cushions would be delighted by the tales of the conquistador who reigns over the toolbox in the garage! But they are bound to their miniature dominions, or to particular times of day – so in the potted crocus in the den, the nocturne of the nameless harpist always fades before sunrise brings the slavedriver with his cat‘¯€b½8€‡µ¢ ‡Ë½}b8²O}€½bO½€½}b‘O†b½‘nŠËobµ½É}€½bO‘‡‡8²bY µ}€²½}8µ½}b²Â‘n½}b}‘µbV8Y‘Y8˵É}b}8ÈbY²bµµbYn‘²½}b theater or a cocktail party he follows me from room to room, declaring that here he would build a library, here another tiny prison.

Amy Hempel: “Conditions” receives an honorable mention for its prose-poem sound, its extravagant premise that plays out modestly, and the evocative effect it produces by the end.

AARON KROL

| Honorable Mention 47


C AROLINE YO UNG

Catastrophilia

8½8µ½²‘}€‡€8U8‘· a sense of non-sense; as in a desire to sense no thing as 1. bird clinging to a concrete É8‡‡·q8µ}‡€u}½Fb8Šµ·F‘Y€bµ at night; unreachable zippers and spider webs. 2. walls collapsed; camera’s eye; a sofa bed; a suitcase packed; four pairs of panties, one bra. 3. lawn bags and a plastic tarp; a laminated photograph; the family tree; a need to cut the grass. 4. house moves; empty cart; estate sale; replacement cost; a price tag on a body suit; being placed on hold. 5. broken limbs; feeding tubes; scar tissue; volcano’s throat; a dumpster. 6. last wishes; leftover chicken sealed in saran wrap; nightmares; being held in place; a Mother’s will. 7. bones in a plaster cast; dead skin; ashes to be; stump grinder. g¢8‡‡Fb8²b²µ·8b²‡8½bµ· neighbors passing; franks and beans, franks and beans; chainsaws. 9. condolences; passage

48 CAROLINE YOUNG | Honorable Mention


O‘‡‡8µbY·‘bO‘noµ·O‡‘µ€u costs; God processing; last call; checkmate. 10. reconstruction sites; cul de sac; no place to sit; red ants, mold, bankers.

Amy Hempel: “Catastrophilia” receives an honorable mention for its playful and imagina½€ÈbYbo€½€‘µ½}8½F‘½}8YY½‘8YÈbb²n²‘Š½}b‘‘n½}b½€½‡b¢

49


photograph by Helen Woolard for The Daily Tar Heel

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I NT ERVIE W

“The Poem Lust I Still Have” A CONVERSATION WITH AMY HEMPEL Amy Hempel has been a well-known name in literary circles since the publication of “In the Cemetery Where Al Jolson is Buried” in 1983. PurportbY‡Ë½}bo²µ½µ½‘²Ëµ}b}8YbÈb²ɲ€½½bV¬½}b bŠb½b²Ë­€µ‘É‘b‘n the most anthologized stories of the past 25 years. In 2006, The Collected +½‘²€bµ‘nЊËbŠb‡V which included all of her work up to that point, was named one of the 10 best books of the year by The New York Times Book Review. Hempel is one of only a handful of writers to make a career b½€²b‡Ë‘½‘nµ}‘²½oO½€‘V}8ȀubÈb²ÂF‡€µ}bY8n‡‡‡bu½}‘Èb‡¢ Nearing the end of her hectic week at The University of North CarolinaChapel Hill as the Morgan Writer In Residence this past March, Hempel and I sat down to chat about dogs, poetry, and precision. Despite her packed schedule and the last minute nature of our interview, she was gracious and vibrant as we settled into two chairs near an open window in UNC’s Greenlaw Hall. I had heard that she does not enjoy interviews, so I was surprised at the ease with which she expressed herself. – Heather Van Wallendael ¢ +,, Ð-Ð The Carolina Quarterly: Can you explain the process of workshopping and bY€½€u½}bo²µ½µ½‘²ËˑÂbÈb²ɲ‘½bK¬½}b bŠb½b²Ë3}b²bЇ‘‡µ‘€µ ²€bY­L¨ Amy Hempel:3bÉb²bu€Èb½}b‘Én8Š‘µ8µµ€uŠb½U¬Ë‘²ɑ²µ½ µbO²b½V­8YbÈb²Ë‘b}8YÈb²Ë€½b²bµ½€uɑ²µ½µbO²b½µ€½}bO‡8µµ¢+‘V we proceeded, and we didn’t look at stories on paper. Each week we read aloud, and we read the new parts as we went along through the term. So, you know, all of us heard each other progress week by week. We got AMY HEMPEL

51


bµµb½€8‡ nbbYF8O† n²‘Š ½}b €µ½²ÂO½‘² 8Y b8O} ‘½}b²¢ ЍY É}b  u‘½ ½‘½}bbY8Yµ8ɽ}8½ŠËµ½‘²ËÉb½‘Èb²Éb‡‡€O‡8µµV½}€†½}b ½b8O}b²…µ½µ8€Y€½¯µ²b8Y˽‘u‘‘½¢+‘µ½8²½bY¢Y€Y¯½}8Èb88ub½V ‘nO‘²µbV8µ8o²µ½µ½‘²ËVµ‘…µ½µ½8²½bYµbY€u€½½‘Š8u8΀bµ8Y placed it in TriQuarterlyVÉ}€O}¯YFbb²b8Y€un‘²Š8ËËb8²µF˽}8½ time. CQ: Did you always want to be a writer? AH: 5bµ¢Y€Y¯½u‘8n½b²€½€8µb²€‘µÉ8Ën‘²8‡‘u½€ŠbVF½Ëb8}¢ Yeah. Doing the usual things. Reading, reading, reading constantly. But Y€Y¯½}8Èb8O‡Âb¢Šb8Vµ½8²½bY€…‘²8‡€µŠV8Yµ½8²½bYY‘€u some newspaper things and medical recording. But not a lot of it before µ½ÂYˀuoO½€‘¢ CQ: You’ve said that you are currently and have always been really interested in the short short. What is on the literary horizon for you? Lots ‘nq8µ}oO½€‘¨ AH: 5bµ¢ ¯Š ½8†€u }‘Šb ɀ½} Šb 8 O‘Ë ‘n Long Story Short: Flash €O½€‘ FË +€Ê½ËoÈb ‘n ‘²½} 8²‘‡€8¯µ €bµ½ 3²€½b²µ which was assembled by Marianne Gingher, for example. Since my collected stories O8Šb‘½VŠ‘µ½‘n½}bµ½‘²€bµ¯Èbɲ€½½b}8ÈbFbbµ}‘²½µ}‘²½µV8Y ‡‘Èb½}bŠ¢¯ŠOb²½8€‡Ë‘½u‘€u€½}bY€²bO½€‘‘n½}b‘Èb‡¢Y‘¯½ expect to ever write a novel. Short shorts are very appealing in a number ‘nÉ8˵V8Y}8Èb€Yb8µn‘²Š8ËŠ‘²b¢Їµ‘V½}b²b¯µ½}b8½½²8O½€‘½}8½ some of them really do approach or maybe even are prose poems. So that µ8½€µobµ½}b‘bŠ‡Âµ½µ½€‡‡}8Èb¢ CQ:е8oO½€‘ɲ€½b²VˑÂY€µOµµ‘b½²Ëɀ½}8u²b8½Yb8‡‘n²bµbO½¢ ‡€†b½}bɑ²YˑµbY8½½}b²b8Y€uU¬²bO€µ€‘€µ½¢­ AH: That’s Raymond Carver’s term.

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KUDU-LAH

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THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| Trail Less Traveled


KU DU - L AH | Daisies and Critters

59


KUDU-LAH

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THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| Gnaw Crashed


C L A IRE WA HMANHOLM

Postcard from the Great Wall ‘bµ½‡ËVO‘‡Y¯½½b‡‡ˑÂ}‘Én8²8É8ËÉb8²b from each other, but the view from here €µ²b8‡‡Ëµ‘Šb½}€ub‡µb¢†‘É€½¯µFbb8É}€‡bi ½}b½²€½‘‘†n‘²bÈb²V8Y€½¯µFbbY€noO‡½½‘oY8bi F½Fb½½b²‡8½b½}8bÈb²V8µ½}b˵8Ë¢}‘bˑ¯²bÉb‡‡¢ ¯Èb8O½bYF8Y‡ËiO8µbb½}8½‘É¢ The space between us has granted a helpful b²µbO½€Èb¢}‘bˑÂO8n‘²u€Èb the clichés of apology, but we’re worlds apart, 8Y¯Š‘½µÂ²b¯Šn‘²O‡‘µ€u½}bY€µ½8Ob¢ ɑ¯½FbO‘Š€uF8O†i€½½‘‘†bÈb²Ë½}€u}8Y …µ½½‘ub½}b²bVµ‘½}€†¯‡‡µb½½‡b€¢²b8‡€½ËV there’s no other option, and you’re long gone by now, bʝbO½¢Ëu8‡8Ê˯µŠ8²†bYɀ½}84¢

The Sloan Great Wall, a giant wall of galaxies, is the largest known structure in the Universe. Its discovery was announced on October 20, 2003. The wall measures 1.37 billion light years in length and is located approximately one billion light-years from Earth.

C L A I R E WA H M A N H O L M

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DARI C G I L L | Comparison

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A ARON G W YN

Sweet Relief ²bŠbŠFb²8‡‡½}8½Ă‹b8²Fb€Â?uĂ‚Âľb‡b¾¾8Â?Y¾½²8Â?ub¢(bY8‡€Â?u½‘½}b F²€Yub8n½b²ÂľO}‘‘‡ÂŻYÂ?8¾¾½b‡bÂ?}‘Â?bÂ?‘‡bÂľV½}€Â?†€Â?uVif I make that one before three, today it will happen. Ă?Â?Y€nŠ8Yb€½Fbn‘²b½}²bbVÂŻYY‘½}b Âľ8Šbɀ½}½}bÂ?bʽV†bbÂ?Y‘€Â?u€½Ă‚Â?½€‡Âľ8ɽ}bO‘Â?O²b½b²8€‡€Â?uVbÂ?Â?b½}ÂŻÂľF۠b}8Â?Y‡bÂľ¾½€O†€Â?u‘½n²‘Š½}b²‘8Y¾€YbFĂ‚Âľ}b¾¢½É8Âľ‘Â?‡Ë8 ‡€½½‡bO²bb†u‘€Â?uĂ‚Â?Yb²½}b²‘8Y½}b²b¢Y‘Â?¯½bĂˆbÂ?½}€Â?†€½}8Y8Â?8Šb¢ Ă?‡‡½}b‡b8ĂˆbÂľ‘Â?½}b½²bbÂľV½}bĂˆÂ€Â?bÂľV8Â?Y½}bnbÂ?ObÂ?‘¾½¾Éb²bÂ?‘ÉYb²bY with dust, and there was a patch of poison ivy dusted as well.  Ă‹½}8½½€ŠbVÂŻYFbbÂ?½²Ë€Â?un‘²8F‘½¾€ÊŠ‘Â?½}¾¢ÂŻY½²€bYɀ½} O8½8‡‘uÂľV 8Â?Y ÂŻY ½²€bY ɀ½} Â?€O½Â²bÂľ ÂŻY ²€Â? ‘½ ‘n ŠË ¾€¾½b²¯¾ Cosmos, 8Â?YÂŻY½²€bY‡8½b8½Â?€u}½É8½O}€Â?u²b²ÂÂ?Âľ‘nMarried With Children. used Jergen’s hand lotion, and baby oil, and KY Jelly from Mom and

8Y¯¾²‘‘ŠV8�Y¾bY½}b¾Ob�½bY‡‘½€‘�bb���†b�½‘�}b²Y²b¾¾b²¢ �b½€Šb�½}8€²O‘�Y€½€‘�b²€�8¾8�YɀO}F8uV¾‡€��bY€½€�Fb½Ébb� the couch cushions, and went at it like a dog. Nothing came of it but a big mess. ½É8¾²€u}½8n½b²½}8½¾½8²½bYɀ½}½}bŠ8u8΀�b¾¢3bF‘Âu}½½}bŠ every Wednesday from Jimmy Goss’s brother, kept them stacked under a ²‘O†Fb‡‘ɽ}bF²€Yub¢�¾¾‘‘�8¾½}bF¾Y²‘��bYŠb‘nnV¯Yub½‘�ŠË bike, cross the highway, and pedal along the dirt road to meet Kenneth, 8‡‡½}bÉ8ËY‘É�½}€�†€�u8F‘½É}b½}b²‘²�‘½€½ɑ‡Yo�8‡‡Ë}8��b�¢ ¯Y}€YbŠËF€†bVu‘Â�Yb²�b8½}½}b²‘8YV8�Yo�Y}€ŠY‘É�F˽}bÉ8ter, a magazine cracked open and held to his face. That day, he had his jean jacket spread out, and he was lying there sipping a can of pop. When he saw me, he rose up on an elbow, and held out the centerfold. bËV­}b¾8€YV‡‘‘†8½½}€¾‘�b¢­ ‡‘‘†bY¢½É8¾8�€O½Â²b‘n8F‡‘�Yb†�bb‡€�u€�8u8²8ubɀ½}8 monkey wrench up to her crotch. She was very pretty and smeared with grease.

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THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY


STEPHAN IE E . SCH L A IF E R

From the Old Northwest ²‘Š½}b‡bÈb‡bµµ‘n½}bO‘½Ëi through Montgomery, Dark, and Greene, from a bright cloud having precisely the color of a glowing oven, 8‡€½½‡b²8€nb‡‡i not enough ½‘Éb½8Š8¯µµ}€²½i and the storm µbbŠbY8½o²µ½ the size of a man’s hand, throwing a small cloud, then folds from clouds to earth, and the brightness made the face of things light above the brightness of a full moon. е8½8µ€u8‡V the cloud started from its position. ½µO‘²µbÉ8µ‘²½}b²‡Ë ½}bb8µ½b²‡Ëi some resemblance to an elephant’s trunk, like that of a cone or a sugar loaf, rather like a speaking trumpet, a fountain boiling over.

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The rain continued falling, not in drops F½‡€†b8µ‘‡€YF‘YË‘nÉ8½b²i a column of water a column of sand quite dark, so that objects could not be seen through it. Here a piece of broken furniture and there, a scattered door. ,}b8€²É8µo‡‡bY with trees and cattle, beds, and bedding, and fragments of houses, }8€‡µ½‘bµ8µ‡8²ub8µ8Š8¯µ½É‘oµ½µi the air was black as pitch and boiling like that substance over a furnace.

I created “From the Old Northwest” entirely with fragments from 19th-century newspaper accounts of severe storms that were collected in a book called, 8²‡ËЊb²€O8,‘²8does. Using descriptions from various storms in the region we now know as the Midwest, I strove to create an image of a single storm from inception to destructive conclusion (Most accounts did not describe storms in their entirety.). I was taken with the vividness and formality of the language, and it was important to me that the material of this poem be comprised entirely of language (voices) from this other era. There is a natural music to this found text, and composing it in verse really allowed me to explore the emotive qualities of the diction, both the awe and the terror.

STE P H A N I E E . SC H L A I F E R

89


JU STI N RA MSE Y | Channeling

103


J A SM INE V. BA IL EY

Devotions by Bruce Smith -Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë‘n }€O8u‘(²b¾¾ ˜Ă?sÂ?8ub¾¡_˜g¢Ă?Ă?}8²YOÂ‘Ăˆb²

Â?²b8Y€Â?u ²ÂOb+Š€½}ÂŻÂľDevotions, it is important to consider not only what a devotion is, but who or what merits devotion. These poems can be things of great beauty because they do not concern themselves with the obviously beautiful or ½}bĂˆb²Ë¾Ébb½¢,}bĂ‹O‘Â?½8€Â?ŠÂO}ĂˆÂ€Â‘Â‡bÂ?Ob8Â?Yo²bV8Â?Y½}bĂ‹O‘Â?Ob²Â?½}bŠ¾bÂ‡ĂˆbÂľ with broken cities (Syracuse, Utica), the broken parts of glorious cities (New York, (8²€¾ VO²‘ɾV8Â?bĂŠÂ?²€¾‘Â?b²V8O}€‡YÉ}‘b8½¾8O²8O†b²‘nn‘n½}bFĂ‚Âľq‘‘²V8Â?Y8 poetic persona that contains within him both murder and relentless empathy, who often rides the bus and glides between dream, life, and imagination. Â?½}bÂľbÂ?‘bŠ¾V½}bĂˆÂ‘Â€Ob€¾Š‘¾½‘n½bÂ?½}8½‘n8¾ËŠÂ?8½}b½€OÂľbb²¢,}b‡€Â?bÂľ n²‘Š ÂŹ bĂˆÂ‘Â˝Â€Â‘Â?U €Y²8Âľ}­ ÂľbbŠ 8 Âľb‡nÂ?‘²½²8€½U ÂŹ3}b½}b² ˑ¯²b b8½¾ Âş ɀ½} your nose pressed against the window of the sweet / shop‌or whether you’re the ɑŠ8Â?‘Â?½}bF¾¢­ ²Â?‘b½€¾F‘½}b8½¾8Â?Y½}bɑŠ8Â?‘Â?½}bFĂ‚ÂľVŠ8Â?Ă‹ times Keats watching the woman on the bus and sometimes the woman on the bus watching Keats. Â?ÂŹ bĂˆÂ‘Â˝Â€Â‘Â?U }8Â?ub‡€Â?uV­½}bÂ?b²¾‘Â?8bÂ?O‘ÂÂ?½b²¾8Š8Â?}b²bO‘uÂ?€ÎbÂľ8Âľ 8Â?bĂŠO‘Â?8Â?YÉ}‘Š}bÂľb½¾Ă‚Â?8Âľ}€¾‘ÉÂ?O}8Â?ub‡€Â?uU‘Â?b¾É€½O}bY8½F€²½}8Â?Y given the fate of another. The observations about the man are uncharacteristically ²Â½}‡b¾¾UÂŹO‘Šb€Â?½‘½}bn8Ob}bYbÂľbÂ˛ĂˆbY8½¾€Ê½ËV8nb‡‘Â?€‘¾n8ObhÉb8²€Â?uO‡‘½}bÂľ  ‘Â?Ob ɑ²bV F½ Âľ}8FF€b²V Y€Â?u€b²¢­ 5b½ 8‡Š‘¾½ Fbn‘²b ½}bÂľb ɑ²YÂľ 8²b ‘½V ½}bĂ‹ 8²b§Â8‡€obYɀ½}O‘ŠÂ?‡bʀ½€bÂľ½}8½Â?‘€Â?½½}boÂ?ub²F8O†½‘É8²YÂľ½}bÂľÂ?b8†b²VÉ}‘ hates in others what he sees in himself. What he despises is not the crimes themselves, but the way the other man allows the knowledge of his crimes (whether real or imaginary, chosen or as unavoidable as original sin) to mute and subdue him. The hatred of submission, and of guilt, is a major preoccupation in this book, as it was in Smith’s previous Songs for Two Voices and The Other Lover. That this quality (the struggle against human nature and against guilt itself)

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intersects with the religious discourse is not lost on Smith, who has taken the title and central trope of the book from religion. There are numerous other moments in the book where religious tones are brought into the mosaic, such as the ending ‘n¬ bȑ½€‘U€½8²V­¬É8µ²bOb€È€uU8Š8ub½ɑY8²‘Y8µ½bb‡O‘€‡h½}b §Â8Èb²µO‘Èb²½bY½‘8b‡bO½²€OF‘€‡hO8FbŠ‘²½€obY8ËÉ}b²bVbÈb²ËÉ}b²b¢­ b²bV ½}b }b8ÈËV ‘‡ËµË‡‡8F€OV 8Fµ½²8O½V 8½€8½b ¬Š‘²½€obYV­ É}€O} O‘‡Y b8µ€‡Ë be too vague and non-visual to work, particularly at the end of the poem, in fact creates a thrilling and rich ending, because its tones of religious torture, though ‘½bʝ‡€O€½‡ËŠ8€nbµ½Vµ½€‡‡²€uO‡b8²V8Y½}b€²O‘q8½€‘ɀ½}½}b8O½‘nŠÂµ€O making is rich as a metaphor for the idea of writing as an act of devotion. ½µ}‘‡YFb‘½bY½}8½½}bµb‘bŠµ8²b‘½b8µËVF½½}b˯²b‘½}8²Y€½}b way of poems deliberately semipermeable to the intellect or resistant to feeling. ,}bË 8²b Y€noO‡½ FbO8µb ½}b ²8ub ‘n ²bnb²bObµ €µ Èb²Ë F²‘8YV ½}b ½}‘Âu}½ €µ subtle and exact, and the poet has worked hard to make every line alive with movement, making surprising but accurate associations, and playing with sound and the visual components of the poem. The line, more than any other unit, is ½}b²bO‘u€ÎbYO²²bOË‘n½}bµb‘bŠµ¢¬ bȑ½€‘U(²‘È€YbObV­¬O²€bYº½}b O‡‘½}bµ‘nn‘nµ½²€b²µV­8Y¬Y²b8ŠVO‘‡Y‘½Y‘½}bµb8F€²Yµn²‘Š½}b€² µ}8Y‘ɵ¢­  ¬ bȑ½€‘U *bY *‘‘n V­ ¬Ð½ ½}b *bY *‘‘n  ½}bË O‘‡Y¯½ ²bO‘ŠŠbY88‡½b²8½€Èbº½‘µÂnnb²€u¢­¬ bȑ½€‘U‘µb}€b(V­¬½}b½²bbµ º½}8½b8½½}b‡€Šb‡€†b8Y8Šb ‘È8²Ë¢­Š8Ë‘n½}bµbV½}b8²²bµ½€u§Â8‡€½Ë of the image is not divorceable from the torque of the intelligence, or the play of language and sound. ¬ bȑ½€‘U+‡bbV­+Š€½}ɲ€½bµV¬€È€u½}bɑ²‡Y€½µY€noO‡½Ë½‘Fbº ‡‘ÈbYO‘Y€½€‘8‡‡ËVu€È€u½}bɑ²‡Y€½µF8Y8Šb¢­½}bµb‘bŠµ}b²bµ€µ½µ this impulse, attempting to love the world unconditionally if it can be done, and even to praise the world as it is (ugly, violent, cruel, insane), to make for it 88ŠbŸµ‘u ½}8½€µF‘½}Fb8½€n‡8Y½²Âb¢еɀ½}Ybȑ½€‘µV‘bY‘bµ‘½ attempt such projects in order to complete them. Bruce Smith can’t redeem the ɑ²‡YVbÈbɀ½}½}€µ}b8²½F²b8†€uF‘‘†¢½¯µ½}b8O½‘nɲ€½€u½}8½O‘½µV½}8½ must be done. The book is not only comprised of devotions, but is one. Writing is, or ought to be, the pouring of one urn of water into a garden that is always ½}²b8½b€u½‘Y²Ë¢ 8O}ɲ€½b²o‡‡µ½}bO8²8nb8YÉ8‡†µ½‘½}bu8½bV½€€u the water, which seems so little. The garden still looks like it will die, but how do you think it made it this long? J A S M I N E V. BA I L E Y

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CONTRIBUTORS FALL 2011 | VOL. 61, NO. 2

JENNIFER D. ANDERSON is a visual artist who has recently relocated from the West Coast to Southwest Virginia where she teaches studio art at Hollins University. Her art has been exhibited in venues across ½}b-Â?€½bY+½8½bÂľ8ÂľÉb‡‡8Âľ€Â?*¾¾€8VĂ?¾½²8‡€8V8Â?Y+‘½}‘²b8¢,8†ing into account the vulnerable delicate nature of the life while gently asserting the persistence of memory, her work has long focused on the ephemeral through the selection of images, materials, and process. JASMINE V. BAILEY is the O’Connor fellow in creative writing at Colu8½b-Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë8Â?Y}‘‡YÂľ8Â?Ă?n²‘Š½}b-Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë‘n2€²u€Â?€8¢b² poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in the minnesota review, 32 Poems, Rhino, The Portland Review, and other journals. Her chapbook, Sleep and What Precedes ItV€¾8Ăˆ8€‡8F‡bn²‘Š‘Â?u‡b8n(²b¾¾¢ JAMES GORDON BENNETT’s opening chapter of his novel-in-progress, A Garden Above the World, about the arctic explorer Matthew Henson, appears in the current Literary Imagination¢€¾Âľ}‘²½oO½€‘Â?}8Âľ twice been reprinted in New Stories from the South and cited a number of times in Best American Short Stories. CHRIS DUNSMORE lives in Salt Lake City and studies poetry and book 8²½¾€Â?½}bĂ?Â?²‘u²8Š8½½}b-Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë‘n-½8}¢€¾Â?‘b½²Ë}8Âľ8Â?peared in the undergraduate literary journal Polaris. JOE GALLAGHER É8Âľ F‘²Â? 8Â?Y ²8€¾bY €Â? ²‡8Â?Y‘V ‡‘²€Y8¢ b €¾ ½}b (²‘YĂ‚O€Â?uĂ?²½€¾½€O €²bO½‘²8½ €u*‘YbÂ?½V8½}b8½b²O‘ŠÂ?8Â?Ă‹}bn‘ÂÂ?YbYV O²²bÂ?½‡Ë Â?½½€Â?u ‘Â? €½¾ ½}€²Y Âľb8¾‘Â? €Â? bÉ 5‘²† €½Ë¢ €¾ o²¾½ book of poetry, Night at Suck Mansion, was published in 2010. Joe lives with his girlfriend in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn.

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DARIC GILL€µ8 ‘‡ÂŠFµF8µbY8²½€µ½8YbYÂO8½‘²¢b}8µ}€µÐ from the University of Cincinnati. His studio practices range from bronze sculptures to robotics, eloquent oil paintings to fun and fancy-free illus½²8½€‘µV8Yob8²½µn²€½Â²b½‘u²8no½€€µ€²bYÉ8‡‡µO‡½Â²bµ¢8YY€½€‘V€‡‡}8µ8‡µ‘½8Âu}½8½½}b ‘‡ÂŠFµ ‘‡‡bub‘nв½8Y bµ€uV ½}b-€Èb²µ€½Ë‘n €O€8½€V8Y½}b ‘‡ÂŠFµ ‡½Â²8‡в½µ b½b²¢ AARON GWYN is the author of the novel The World Beneath and a collection of stories, Dog on the CrossVÉ}€O}É8µ8o8‡€µ½n‘²½}bÁÏÏpbÉ 5‘²† (ÂF‡€O €F²8²Ë 5‘u €‘µ €O½€‘ ÐÉ8²Y¢ €µ µ}‘²½ oO½€‘ }8µ appeared in New Stories from the South, Esquire, McSweeney’s, Glimmer Train, The Gettysburg Review, and other magazines. He is associate professor of English at the University of North Carolina-Charlotte where }b½b8O}bµoO½€‘ɲ€½€u8YO‘½bŠ‘²8²ËЊb²€O8oO½€‘¢ AMORAK HUEY, a former reporter and editor, teaches at Grand Valley State University in Michigan. His poems have appeared in The Southern Review, Indiana Review, Subtropics, Rattle and other journals. NAHAL SUZANNE JAMIR ²bOb€ÈbY }b² (}  € ²b8½€Èb 3²€½€u n²‘Š ‡‘²€Y8 +½8½b -€Èb²µ€½Ë¢ b² ɑ²† }8µ Fbb ÂF‡€µ}bY € The South Carolina Review, Jabberwock Review, Meridian, The Los Angeles Review, and Crab Orchard Review. AARON KROL was raised in Baltimore, educated in New York, currently resides in Boston, and following this trajectory will most likely die in Toronto. By day he sells puzzles and board games, and by night }bÂ²µÂbµ}€µÐ€‘b½²Ë8½ Šb²µ‘ ‘‡‡bub¢ KUDU-LAH is a locally owned and operated husband-wife duo based in NYC. Harnessing the power of awesome, Kenny and Jenifer Kudulis bring you monster-like characters that are inspired by folks often seen traveling through the subways of NYC. Each individual piece of artwork is lovingly handmade with a unique photo transfer process. CO N TR I B U TO R S

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ANGIE MACRI’s work is forthcoming in Redivider, RHINO, and Third Coast, among other journals, and is included in Best New Poets 2010. Her manuscript QueenswareÉ8µ8ŠbY8o8‡€µ½€½}b ²8F ²O}8²Y +b²€bµ€(‘b½²Ë€²µ½ ‘‘†ÐÉ8²YO‘Šb½€½€‘V8Yµ}b}8µFbb8É8²YbY 8€Y€È€YÂ8‡8²½€µ½nb‡‡‘ɵ}€n²‘Š½}bв†8µ8µв½µ ‘O€‡¢ JAMES MCFATTER‡€Èbµ€,8‡‡8}8µµbbV‡‘²€Y8VÉ}b²b}bɑ²†µ8µ8 editor, writer, and governmental training director. His poems have appeared in Sycamore Review and Mid-American Review. Currently he is an associate editor for Itinerario: International Journal on the History of European Expansion and Global Expansion, published by CamF²€Yub-€Èb²µ€½Ë(²bµµ¢ MAMIE MORGAN ²bOb€ÈbY }b² Ð n²‘Š -  3€‡Š€u½‘ € ÁÏϹ¢ Since then, she’s taught poetry at The South Carolina Governor’s School n‘²½}bв½µ8YŠ8€½€bµ¢+}b²bOb€ÈbY½}b(‘O8½8‡€u‘(‘b½²Ë(²€ÎbV judged by Matt Doty, last year and is currently a Surdna fellow. Her work has appeared in The Oxford American, Inkwell, The Greensboro Review, and Edible Upcountry. Most days she can be found teaching, waitressing at The Lazy Goat, running trails, or loving on her family. JOHN POCH is the author of three collections of poems, most recently DollsŸ ²O}€µbµ(²bµµÁÏώ ¢b½b8O}bµ€½}bO²b8½€Èbɲ€½€u²‘u²8Š at Texas Tech University. JUSTIN RAMSEY (AKA ZIG-ZAG SOUL) is a self-taught artist residing in 3bµ½е}bȀ‡‡bV‘²½} 8²‘‡€8¢bµbµµËŠF‘‡€µŠ½‘bÊ8Š€b½}bµËchological complexities of life, with a particular interest in the search for meaning in an increasingly unhinged and uncertain world. He uses a wide variety of mediums on various two and three dimensional surn8Obµ¢€µɑ²†O8Fbµbb8½3‘‘‡É‘²½}38‡†€Y‘ɍ½‘ɍе}bȀ‡‡bV ‘²‘}€µÉbFµ€½bUÉÉÉ¢7€u78u+‘‡¢O‘Š¢

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STEPHANIE E . SCHLAIFER €µ ‘²u€8‡‡Ë n²‘Š н‡8½8V b‘²u€8 8Y }8µ 8Ð€‘b½²Ën²‘Š½}b‘É83²€½b²µ¯3‘²†µ}‘¢b²b‘Šµ}8Èb recently appeared in or a forthcoming from Verse, Chicago Review, and Colorado Review, among others. Her manuscript, Clarkston St. PolaroidsVÉ8µo8‡€µ½n‘²½}b,b‡‘(²bµµ€²µ½º+bO‘Y ‘‘†ÐÉ8²YŸÁϘ˜  8Y½}b b8½²€Ob8ɇbË(²€Îbn²‘ŠЇ€Ob8Šbµ ‘‘†µŸÁϘϠ¢+½b}8nie is currently working on a series of poems about historical weather events and a collection of children’s books in verse. COURTNEY SENDER€µ8Ðµ½ÂYb½€€O½€‘8½½}b‘}µ‘†€µ University Writing Seminars, where she also teaches. Her work in other ub²bµ}8µFbbnb8½Â²bY€½}b58‡b(‡8Ëɲ€u}½µbµ½€È8‡V½}b 8‡½€Š‘²b (‡8Ëɲ€u}½µbµ½€È8‡V8YConnecticut River Review¢+}b}‘‡Yµ8 ¢Ð¢€ English from Yale University. MATTHEW VOLLMER is the author of a story collection, Future Missionaries of America, and is co-editor, with David Shields, of Fraudulent Artifacts, an anthology forthcoming from Norton. His work has appeared in magazines such as Paris Review, VQR, Tin House, Epoch, Colorado Review, and Oxford American. He teaches creative writing at Virginia Tech. CLAIRE WAHMANHOLM }‘‡Yµ 8 Ð n²‘Š ½}b ɲ€½€u µbŠ€8²µ 8½ Johns Hopkins University. Her work has appeared in the California Quarterly and the Cider Press Review. She lives in Baltimore.

8²‘‡€b5‘u€µ8‘b½‡€È€u€н}bµVb‘²u€8¢+}b€µÂ²µÂ€u}b² (} € ²b8½€Èb3²€½€u8½-€Èb²µ€½Ë‘nb‘²u€8¢

CO N TR I B U TO R S

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P O E T RY

| F I C T I O N | E S S AY S | R E V I E W S

The Carolina Quarterly thrives thanks to the institutional support of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and our generous individual donors. Beyond the printing of each issue, monetary and in-kind donations help to fund opportunities for our undergraduate interns, university and community outreach ²‘u²8ŠµV 8µ Éb‡‡ 8µ €Š²‘ÈbŠb½µ ½‘ ‘² b§Â€Šb½ 8Y ‘noOb µ8Ob¢ n ˑ would like more information about donating to the Quarterly, please contact us 8½O8²‘‡€8¢§Â8²½b²‡ËDuŠ8€‡¢O‘Š‘²O8‡‡ŸŽ˜Ž sÏg¸¸g¹

G UA RA N TORS



  

Brian & Michelle Carpenter Ѝb?3€‡‡€8Š8²Š‘ Howard Holsenbeck Grady Ormsby ,8²8(‘Éb‡‡ Richard Richardson ЊFb²2‘ub‡ *¢ЇbÊ*8†€

SP ONSORS



 

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Hunter C. Bourne Connie Eble

}²€µ½€b?‘µb}‡‘²8 Jack W.C. Hagsrrom Kimball King Melissa Ross Matron €O}8b‡Obb Regina Oliver Ѝ 8²Ë+€Šµ‘? ‡8Y+€Šµ‘

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY


F RIENDS

 

Michael Chitwood Marianne Gingher ЊËТb8‡bË Ð‡‡€µ‘‘µb} George Lensing Jim McQuaid Jack Raper Robert Shaw Jeffery L. Williams

M E M B E RS Mary Lou Miller Michael Shilling Nancy C. Wooten ²µ€Ob²b½}8†µu‘8‡µ‘½‘½}b noOb‘n½}b(²‘È‘µ½8Y2€Ob }8Ob‡‡‘² n‘²ÐO8YbŠ€OÐnn8€²µV 8²‘‡€8b8Yb²µ}€ bÈb‡‘Šb½V½}b ‡‡¯µb8Y ‘‘†µ}‘V ½}b ‘²u8 8Š€‡Ë 3²€½b²€*bµ€YbOb (²‘u²8ŠV ½}b - 

}8b‡€‡‡ ²b8½€Èb3²€½€u(²‘u²8ŠV8Y½}b-  }8b‡€‡‡ u‡€µ} Department. 8²½€O‡8²Ébɀµ}½‘½}8†²bY‘Fµ‘8Y(8Š ²F8n‘²½}b€² ubb²‘µµÂ‘²½‘n‘²Š8u8΀bV8µÉb‡‡8µ½}b*b}Yb²º b½½µY€ ½}b-  ²b8½€Èb3²€½€u(²‘u²8Š¢ This publication is funded in part by student fees, which were appropriated and dispersed by the Student Government at UNC-Chapel Hill.

PAT RO N S

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2012 SOUTH LOOP REVIEW CREATIVE NONFICTION ESSAY CONTEST Judged by Ander Monson Our contest is open to all nonfiction writers. We’re looking for essays and memoir in lyric and experimental forms. We give greater emphasis to non-linear narratives and blended genre. Winner receives $1,000 and publication in our September 2012 (Volume 14) issue. The $20 submission fee includes a two-year subscription to South Loop Review: Creative Nonfiction + Art. Visit our website for guidelines at colum.edu/southloopreview.

South Loop Review: Creative Nonfiction + Art accepts submissions year-round. We do not accept work that is more than 8-12 text pages or has been previously published. Experimental forms of creative nonfiction, i.e. segmented essays, montage memoir, illustrated/graphic memoir, blended genre, are welcome. Photographers/artists are encouraged to submit narrative/documentary art/photography—pieces that tell a story. For full guidelines and to submit via email, visit Tell It Slant at tellitslant.com/ home/journal_details/9. Hard copies with cover letter and SASE may be sent to: South Loop Review: Creative Nonfiction + Art, Columbia College Chicago, English Department, 600 South Michigan Avenue, Chicago, IL 60605.


Profile for Carolina Quarterly

Carolina Quarterly 61.2  

Issue 61.2 features the winners of our Riding a Gradient Invisible flash fiction/prose poetry contest, judged by Amy Hempel, along with an i...

Carolina Quarterly 61.2  

Issue 61.2 features the winners of our Riding a Gradient Invisible flash fiction/prose poetry contest, judged by Amy Hempel, along with an i...

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