Month: June 2017

Criticism

Lorde’s “Writer in the Dark”: A Testament to the Art of Writing As the Ultimate Weapon for Avengement

Women might be the last people on this earth with a soul left. This is often why 1) they gravitate toward the field of writing as a form of release (as opposed to the more male motive of grandiosity) and 2) they are capable of expressing emotion through the medium in what men might describe as an overly bathetic and/or bleeding heart sort of way. … Continue reading Lorde’s “Writer in the Dark”: A Testament to the Art of Writing As the Ultimate Weapon for Avengement

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Criticism

The Lover: Giving Beaten Down Women Who Have Lost Their Looks Everywhere Hope That Their Old Love Will Always Remember Them As They Were

“The story of my life doesn’t exist. Does not exist. There’s never any center to it. No path, no line.” But, for as self-effacing as the unnamed narrator in Marguerite Duras’ The Lover might try to be in downplaying the tragedy of her existence as commonplace, there can be no denying that the circumstances and trajectory of her life in Sa Đéc and Saigon are especially … Continue reading The Lover: Giving Beaten Down Women Who Have Lost Their Looks Everywhere Hope That Their Old Love Will Always Remember Them As They Were

Genna Rivieccio1 Comment
Poetry

Of Papa Who Sang In the Opera by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

We buried him   in deep November brown hat brown suit brown shoes Color of sorrow of sepia of sienna of a thousand burnt photographs fading into their horizon Color of the linoleum I scrubbed with a toothbrush the day I was forced to dig my own grave for the crimes I committed like living A hole much smaller than the one in my heart We buried … Continue reading Of Papa Who Sang In the Opera by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Glass Nobodies by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Medusa–from Greek; protectress; guardian The owl and the pussycat went out to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat –Edward Lear 1. How I drowned in my mother’s tears alone and unrocked is the part of the story I leave out– how we shivered and swayed in the shadow of the storm how hurricanes had nothing on my father ! Shiver and sway shiver and sway … Continue reading Glass Nobodies by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Genna Rivieccio5 Comments
Criticism

The World In The Evening Persists in Addressing Christopher Isherwood’s Favorite Topic: Repressed Homosexuality

When it comes to studying who perfected the art of expressing repressed homosexuality in a protagonist, one need look no further than Christopher Isherwood. As something of a universal spokesman for gay boys with no voice of their own everywhere, even Isherwood’s first novel, All the Conspirators, addressed the most common adversary of the homosexual male: his mother. Divided into three segments, Isherwood’s 1954 novel, … Continue reading The World In The Evening Persists in Addressing Christopher Isherwood’s Favorite Topic: Repressed Homosexuality

Genna Rivieccio1 Comment
Poetry

Dandelions by Elizabeth Devlin

Yellow, mellow fluorescents and legal pad lines divide the road between now and forever. Lawyer’s musical pen scratches the order: one permanent residence, one father of happenstance, one repeating distribution, of meticulously calculated funds. How do I love thee? Let me count my bills and decide. When consulting suits and considering missed pursuits be advised. Retainers are not exclusively paired with braces. Puberty is long … Continue reading Dandelions by Elizabeth Devlin

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment
Poetry

Abject or débris Art by Nina Živančević

1. One day I stopped loving it I felt being its only representation, representative and a uniformed statue. I was the only replica of my own insane creation, I became a dated caricature of my old powerful but degenerated self, a piece of Débris art admired by the connoisseurs of the Abject long ago. I knew death was around the corner, now that I had … Continue reading Abject or débris Art by Nina Živančević

Genna Rivieccio1 Comment
Poetry

A Sense of Justice by Zeke Greenwald

A sense comes over me of what justice is, and it’s a kiss with two mismatched wetnesses; it’s a sympathy of two shards of vase by faulty glue to keep the tears contained. And though the mouth’s sloppy water might escape because the lip size difference is great we have stopped talking with a sign of pity: pity which makes justice in the living. Continue reading A Sense of Justice by Zeke Greenwald

Genna RivieccioLeave a comment