[…] the comparative and thematic work in the present volume highlights less common approaches to this period vis -à–vis early Mormonism. These include American revolutionary culture, the formation of the public sphere, prophetic culture in […]
[…] life with nothing? Forced to ask ourselves this question in the first two chapters of this genre -bending, disturbing novel—John Bennion’s most complex yet—we get, early on, a glimpse of what he’s up to: […]
[…] 1996 we walked to Westbrook Elementary past neighborhood dogs named Lobo and Lamanite music spilling from one -car garages, brass trumpeting on the asphalt. When the teacher gave us feathers to wear on Thanksgiving, […]
[…] Courante The neon scythe- shaped sparklers become the burr of a dental drill, dull -saw shriek on hardwood, all that is jagged, splintered, pluck- tangled, zipper- snagged. Snarled steel wool claxon, burnt […]
Enjoy this poem in audio version here. The doctor calls her sweetheart when she criesat hearing there is nothing he can find.He pats her back but will not meet her eyes. He doesn’t really mean…
[…] Sarah who laughed at the angel. She adds her name to prayer rolls, requests heavy -handed administrations, repeatedly and in variety except, of course, when it’s God’s will that […]
[…] belong to me, people who’ve left their bloody signatures in my genes, I found Melissa, some sixth great -great of mine, tucked into a corner of a census under her husband’s name, given one […]
[…] Knowest thou the condescension of God?” —1 Nephi 11:16 A body so light, it floated across wind -whipped waves and did not sink. So full of life, it survived empty forty days, no wheat […]
Enjoy this poem in audio version here. Maybe it was envy that churned inside meas I looked around the room. Wonderingwhat healthy Mormons felt instead of fear. My body forced everyone to consider what it meant to be sick in…
Enjoy this poem in audio version here. But my diagnosis says otherwise. Depression oozes under my door: the destroying angel visits:until I can’t get out of bed. One week later I’m waving bloody hyssop like glow sticks at a ravenudging sushi…