—Virginia Woolf
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with the Fates so near that I can hear them
but this morning even the old regrets
seem to have lost their rancor"
—W. S. Merwin, "December Morning," TYR Winter 2016
with the Fates so near that I can hear them
but this morning even the old regrets
seem to have lost their rancor"
—W. S. Merwin, "December Morning," TYR Winter 2016
Will the ice be more ice, the night more night,
the city farther, our life more misshapen and quiet?"
From 1991: A. F. Moritz's "Christmas Decorations."
Will the ice be more ice, the night more night,
the city farther, our life more misshapen and quiet?"
From 1991: A. F. Moritz's "Christmas Decorations."
A new story from Nathan Englander traces one man’s unraveling on the edge of parenthood. yalereview.org/article/nath...
A new story from Nathan Englander traces one man’s unraveling on the edge of parenthood. yalereview.org/article/nath...
living is, in this context,
that someone might insist
that you start. usually the father
dies, i recall, or a child goes
to the graveyard.”
—Hannah Zeavin, “A Peer Among Friends”
living is, in this context,
that someone might insist
that you start. usually the father
dies, i recall, or a child goes
to the graveyard.”
—Hannah Zeavin, “A Peer Among Friends”
An interview with Anahid Nersessian, available on Back Matter, our Substack.
An interview with Anahid Nersessian, available on Back Matter, our Substack.
It is a maneuver, a step in the dance
that opens another room beyond
the one where one has been living.”
From Eli Payne Mandel's “–K,” a poem in our winter issue.
yalereview.org/article/eli-...
It is a maneuver, a step in the dance
that opens another room beyond
the one where one has been living.”
From Eli Payne Mandel's “–K,” a poem in our winter issue.
yalereview.org/article/eli-...
yalereview.org/article/favo...
yalereview.org/article/favo...
open.substack.com/pub/yalerevi...
open.substack.com/pub/yalerevi...
It all: white manes and horses
Switching their sight from eye
To eye as they high-stepped
Across the horizon."
—Patricia Lockwood, "Feel It"
It all: white manes and horses
Switching their sight from eye
To eye as they high-stepped
Across the horizon."
—Patricia Lockwood, "Feel It"
Later, at dinner, I felt abjection.
Believing the pork was human flesh,
I spat in my napkin, actually retched.”
—Kathryn Maris, “The Plumber”
Later, at dinner, I felt abjection.
Believing the pork was human flesh,
I spat in my napkin, actually retched.”
—Kathryn Maris, “The Plumber”
A mistake—though that’s
What poetry is in the first place,
A land where the senses
Can bend."
From "Feel It" by Patricia Lockwood, TYR's Poem of the Week:
A mistake—though that’s
What poetry is in the first place,
A land where the senses
Can bend."
From "Feel It" by Patricia Lockwood, TYR's Poem of the Week: