Recently added articles from Harvard Review:
Editorial.(Editorial)
Jun 01, 2009; Thompson, Christina ... WHEN I WAS A GRADUATE STUDENT in Australia I used to teach in a course we called "Humanizing the Engineers." It was a big class, and a required one, and it was team-taught by a group of junior instructors in various humanities fields. For all these reasons it was never going to be a very ...
West Avenue.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Cunningham, Scott (American writer) ... <Pre> The morning after the hurricane left-- the same morning Foxy Brown discovered the night before she'd gone deaf and staggered into the kitchen to bang a pan against the oven and wonder where the sound had gone when it left it-- here, in South Beach, it was winter: leaves in the ...
Leica.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Cunningham, Scott (American writer) ... <Pre> Through the viewfinder's view a second frame comes into view, framed by the single panel of the window's edges where the wood meets the pane of glass. The eye's ledge suspends mostly sky due to the window's height and the position of her body lying on the nearby bed, ...
Blink Once.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Gottshall, Karin ... <Pre> At fifteen I was what's called bookish-- I had a recurring dream of an owl lecturing on the Surrealists, and I always woke from it happy. I spent that entire summer running the projector in the library basement-- silent movies for the kids on vacation, cold coffee and ...
We Were Hardly Angels.(Short story)
Jun 01, 2009; Sloss, Aria Beth ... THE TRUTH IS THAT WE MIGHT NEVER have found the picture if it hadn't been for the bats, which--contrary to popular belief, Freddie told us--do not build nests but simply roost. Perhaps. But somebody or something had been building up there. You could see the twigs poking out along the ...
Elsewhere.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Cader, Teresa ... After Looking for Poetry <Pre> I came here so I might not feel sunlight on my face. Carlos Drummond de Andrade searched for the key by not Looking--a cavern opening to a waterfall, prisms of syllable- Music. What I crave is molten, made by the untameable. Carlos, we must ...
Reading Light.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Alexie, Sherman ... <Pre> Startled awake, I curse. I hate The hours I've lost To turn and toss, The grind of mind And teeth. This night, Like each night Of my weary life, I shamble down- Stairs and look around The kitchen for junk To eat and eat. Fuck! </Pre> I am old and ...
Poetry and Insomnia.
Jun 01, 2009; Matthias, John ... TELEVISION ADVERTISEMENTS FOR over-the-counter sleeping aids are everywhere at the moment, especially perhaps on the network news, where the many weaknesses of aging baby boomers are addressed: impotence, piles, incontinence, osteoporosis. Ah, for a good night's sleep. Just one pill and ...
In Transit.(Essay)
Jun 01, 2009; Rhett, Kathryn ... THERE IS THE BIRTHPLACE AND there is the deathplace. We are in the deathplace. The deathplace is Bad Aibling, in southern Germany, just north of the Austrian border. To get here, we have driven through the Tyrol, the Italian-Austrian-German alpine region in which gingerbread houses stack ...
Venezia: Brutto Tempo.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Boyers, Peg ... <Pre> Waiting for the Alilaguna from the airport to bring home my son, sweep him in with the green-gray tide and the August light scorching from the east, over the reticulated Canaletto crests topping the waves, crimped as the postcard mane on St. Mark's lion: I am past fifty, ...
The Constant Visitors.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Schutt, Will ... <Pre> In Siracusa, even the priest's hands perform tricks that beg for change and the congregation cries, Miracle! as if an annus mirabilis arrived with every First of Spring. See, there, the charm in the vial: half-shade of a saint's blood turning into liquid before the ...
Snow for Wallace Stevens.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Hayes, Terrance ... <Pre> No one living a snowed-in life can sleep without a blindfold. Light is the lion that comes down to drink. I know tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk holds nearly the same sound as a bottle. Drink and drank and drunk-a-drunk-drunk, Light is the lion that comes down. This song is ...
Problems and Solutions in the Golden English Language.(Essay)
Jun 01, 2009; Lloyd-Jones, Antonia ... WE'RE SITTING OUTSIDE A JUICE BAR off the main street of Axum in northern Ethiopia. I'm nursing a bright orange mango juice, and trying to ignore the attentions of the local children who equate white skin with money, when John says, "Who wants to go to the English language class?" ...
On Hold.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Cramer, Steven ... <Pre> Press #I to languish in English, wait time estimated anywhere between death and rebirth. Askew skull pinioning the handset to your collarbone's hollow, listen: your dead kin traffic in and out of memory's rest stop, the rents of past loves disjointed Legos now ....
Invasion of the haoles.
Jun 01, 2009; Hamby, Barbara ... KATHERINE HIGAT A WROTE HER MOTHER and father dozens of letters before an envelope with the postmark Springfield, Ohio, October 15, 1952, arrived at her house on Lipona Street in Honolulu. It was addressed in her father's small, spiked handwriting and smelled dry and smoky. She could ...
Waking up in Chicago After Dream Song 29.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Pavlic, Ed ... <Pre> just short of a month ago I burned a first edition on the hearth and scooped the blistered ash don't ask into an airtight container I keep it next to the sugar sun up I stir a teaspoon of this shade and heavy cream into coffee and there's breath-flash clean as knife-wind in the ...
21 Haiku.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Sanchez, Sonia ... for Odetta <Pre> 1. The sound of your voice thundering out of the earth 2. a drum beat summoning us to prayer 3. behold the smell of your breathing 4. dilated by politics you dared to love 5. you opened up your throat to travellers ...
Owed to Shirley Chisholm.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Shockley, Evelyn E. ... <Pre> a nation outrageous in its hunger for heart (not hearts) and enough sun-touching ladders to go around: hearty anger unquenched by wet (american) (crutching) dreams, unmuted by the sound of rising dough: yards of respect wrapped round her shoulders, more warming than fur ...
Graveyard at Monticello.(Poem)
Jun 01, 2009; Taylor, Tess ... <Pre> One of the world's thin places. Sometimes they speak, and the long dead come keening their confederate cry. Light silts through tulip poplars, waving. Light on granite stones. Loose winds hold renegade voices, fugitive of the ravenous grave. Hey hullah nonny ...
A Couple of Questions Concerning Class Mobility.(Essay)
Jun 01, 2009; Robson, Ruthann ... I. "HOW DID THEY GET SO POOR?" My son asks me this. He's sixteen, navigating out of my parents' steep driveway. He grinds the gears, awkward at shifting. "Push the clutch all the way in," I say, echoing my father's time-worn instructions to me. My small ...
