The Girl from No Gun Ri
by Esther Ra
The Girl from No Gun Ri (CLICK HERE))
From John D. Robinson:
The Girl From No Gun Ri is a tremendously powerful, moving and harrowing account of the atrocities of war: the poet writes with a clarity that is both beautiful and disturbing without a sense of self-indulgence or pity: The Girl From No Gun Ri is a poem whose ghost will inhabit the reader long after reading the poem
(This poem was published first by The Rumpus (CLICK HERE)
UnCollected Press and The Raw Art Review needs to boost revenues! We have many extraordinary publication projects we want to get to.
We are running a 2-for-1 sale for 1 week beginning today. Order any book from our Books for Sale page and from our Journal Issues page and receive a second book of your choice for free.
Please indicate what book you want as your add-on bonus in the comments section of your order – or email us at email@example.com
We are featuring 3 First Edition signed publications!
BOOKS FOR SALE
UnCollected Press, publisher of The Raw Art Review, is excited to announce that Clare Chu’s book of poems The Sand Dune Teacher is the fourth book selected to be published as a RAR Chapbook contest winner.
UnCollected Press, publisher of The Raw Art Review, is excited to announce that James Walton’s book of poems Abandoned Soliloquies is the third book selected to be published as a RAR Chapbook contest winner.
UnCollected Press, publisher of The Raw Art Review, is excited to announce that Temple Cone’s book of poems Southrenody is the second book selected to be published as a RAR Chapbook contest winner.
The Unfortunate and Inevitable Fall of Man
by Silas Plum
A Day at The Beach and Bird Back 2 (from 5 Photos on Isolation)
by Bruce MacDonald
by J. Ray Paradiso
At Least My Dog Loves Me
The following works were finalists and will appear in the Spring Issue of The Raw Art Review:
Rising Codes by Carla Schiavone
Untitled Jodi Filan
Blue in the Aquarium’s Face
There was nothing but altitude below sea level.
I was blue in the aquarium’s face. Large orcas showed
monstrous fins of concern. Starfish leapt off someone’s homework
assignment down into the tank. Sharks circled back as if
trying to retrace the steps of the lost. And the coral was bleached.
I decided it was a load of laundry. The obstruction in my airway
refusing to dislodge itself. Some miserable war-drunk despot
trying to hold onto power. Each time I cleared my throat a distant
church bell rang. I thought of dried chewing gum under the pews
taking in the hallelujahs each Sunday. Of briny miracles from the pulpit.
Stained glass windows so elaborate that code breakers were brought
in to admire them. And back down in the tunnel under the water
the flash from picture takers. As I fell to one knee. The sounds
of choking and many black dots. A lone octopus with its
tentacles into everything.
FEATURED POET: Ryan Quinn Flanagan (CLICK HERE)