Lynne Thompson – When To Bird & When To Be Human
When To Bird & When To Be Human Did you ever hear the red-bellied woodpecker give a shrill churr to any Black birder who was just looking up? Maybe you’ve heard a Virginia rail’s long sequence of piglike grunts trail off when in the presence of a Black birder or you have heard the solitary […]
Editors’ Introductions
Editors’ Introductions Pedestal’s editorial process is always an exhilarating and expansive experience. To see an issue come together – poem by poem, each with its unique voice, music, and intent – is gratifying and still, after all these years, brings me a rush of energy, a feeling of being on some kind of creative frontline. […]
Lynne Thompson’s Fretwork, Reviewed by Erica Goss
Lynne Thompson Fretwork Marsh Hawk Press Reviewer: Erica Goss What makes a family – biology, desire, accident or choice? In Lynne Thompson’s Fretwork, family is all of these and more. An adoptee, the author examines adoption’s fraught emotional territory with an unsentimental eye, taking the reader through the web of abandonment, coincidence, and mystery surrounding […]
Lynne Thompson – They
They I was a married woman, silent as a stone in water but not too old to dream of the flaring of my womb, the rigid of my jaw bone. ♒︎ How can I explain to you: my skin, leather black with time, sashayed through a room of daggers. Hard to picture those sweet boys, […]
Lynne Thompson – Morning Street
Morning Street Morning’s no one-time storm— is mere, is integer. Morning is émigré, street noire, testier, rime most rotten! Griot. Grist. Rioting rioter. Sentient morning, egoist entire, soignée in nitrogen garment. O gemstone. O morning: no segment, no omen. Innermost engine. Totem. Winner of the Stephen Dunn Poetry Prize in 2016 […]
