The time has come to give The Splinter Generation a break. We could not be more proud of the work of our authors, our editors, and our readers.
Likely, this break will be permanent. But we have one more surprise coming down the pike. Stay tuned!. »
Adam is dead and I eat Greek yogurt in my office between classes. Adam is dead and I reply to emails requesting recommendations. I purchase Iron and Wine tickets for their November show on South Beach. I buy Band of Horses’s “The Funeral” off iTunes and Adam is dead at twenty-two. Adam is dead and. »
by Niki Selken You know how it feels to write or make a first draft of something, then rework it until it shines like the top of Chrysler Building? You know how you kind of want to burn that first draft, so that no one will ever know the embarrassing wreckage of over-obvious, trite, and. »
Poetry by Elaina M. Ellis
Can a free-write about marriage be free or is it an oxymoron?
Marriage begs payment: pay for the husband to take the woman (cow)
off the hands of her father, as father grows tired of the girl-gone-woman (cow)’s
need to be fed?. »
Poetry by Janette Kim Larson
oblique sermon in the strip mall
man dressed up as pizza
arms restrained beneath
such lust. »
Lisa McCool-Grime Senior Poetry Editor Synthesis: This is not so much an act of combining as it is an act of harmonizing. Which parts of the previous drafts have shown themselves to be extraneous and unnecessary? Which parts augment and support one another? What is the best flow for these remaining moments? What connective tissue. »
I hear Ezra Pound croaked without making a sound. No last rasp as his crooked legs crashed. I hear your aunt passed. I apologize. “I am nothing but bereft for her.” This is a chant & I realize 89% of Americans die in a hospital. Or so I hear. Or so it goes. & my. »
Lisa McCool-Grime Senior Poetry Editor In this series we have thus far presented a long, action-loaded rough draft and then a total scrap-and-revise, tanka-inspired revision. This week’s installment is a list poem—a sister-shadow poem heavy with nouns; a counterpoint to the verb-heavy first draft. Here Niki Selken makes a descriptive list of things her narrator. »
Why I’ve got today This niggling feeling Like I’m The Principled Nazi Lieutenant With a Conscience defending A downed RAF pilot Of pure shamrock Irish stare (And this for fookin’ nuthin': He’ll die, of course he will, shot In the head by some Gestapo and I – I’ll never make it captain). Sorry, mate, I. »
Lisa McCool-Grime Senior Poetry Editor Tanka is a Japanese form that can be roughly approximated in English with five lines using a syllabic pattern of 5-7-5-7-7. When I first began working with it, I found it to be an amazingly tidy container for difficult to contain emotions. So in reading Niki’s first draft, I immediately. »
Poetry by Whitnee Thorp
On Sundays we’d go over,
my grandmother and I, to see her ex-husband,
my grandfather, at his apartment a block away from ours.
On Sundays, the typewriter
would be in the same spot, at the head of the table,
covering a yellow smoke stained place mat.
He’d set a papyrus-thin white paper
through its clicking rounded black tongue. »
Lisa McCool-Grime Senior Poetry Editor In 2007, I was visiting my friend Owen at his art show: portraits on the grandest scale done in aerosol on 8′ x 8′ panels. It was the last hour of the last day of the Durham Art Walk in North Carolina. When all of the passers by stopped passing. »