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A Matter of Faith - Vimarsana News

A Matter of Faith

Arthur Solway’s poetry and essays have appeared in The Antioch Review, Barrow Street, BOMB, The London Magazine, Salmagundi, Southern Poetry Review, TriQuarterly and elsewhere. He was cited among the 2018 finalists for the Barrow Street Press Poetry Prize, finalist for the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry Award in 2019, and the 2020 finalist for Anhinga Press-Robert Dana Prize for Poetry. A graduate of the Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers, his critical reviews, profiles, and cultural essays have also been featured in Artforum, Frieze, and Art Asia Pacific magazines. Winner of the 2019 Tu...

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Issue 159
How to rebuild me when I fall apart - Vimarsana News

How to rebuild me when I fall apart

How to rebuild me when I fall apartAfter Roger ReevesI want a spine a gun barrel throat. A voice with steel boots.I want to command a lover who leaves devours me.I want to rent my body to a soul brave to be naked in this body in the street.

4 poems from the sequence "test—flux" - Vimarsana News

4 poems from the sequence "test—flux"

Jughea d potted s hell  he ad precious po tted jug pot she rd  shard pitch   er   she ll woven s he l l            it was multipleand my head was a joke   my head was a joke?   my head became a small vessel and a precious metal was put in theres he l l    jughea d potted s hell  precious po tted   he ad   jug   shell  pot   po  tted   she rd shard pitch   er woven   she ll 

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Issue 159
After returning to King's College Chapel - Vimarsana News

After returning to King's College Chapel

The night-locked dusk clicked shut.The cool air rose like a stone.At last, my voices echoed through the high,miraculous chamber. And the iconographycut me, breathlesssymmetry.This kingdomis fraught with the skeptical—the stem before the gold-bloomed leafwhose colorthe cathedral imitates.The dusky grove. The dragon andthe greyhound, caught in their infinite chasethrough the

Creation Story - Vimarsana News

Creation Story

Before bed, my smallyets ask if I’ll meet themat the signpost we create in sleep, & whenthey wake, they’ll ask do I remember.I take us to the cliffing place, dip our wasp-stung faces toward the wind. It licks us till we brine.We dream the world won’t end.Not till the glob we’ve wadded in our pocketsis stuck safe behind our ears. Till that gumballmachine, infection-pink, has

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Issue 159