This month: surviving pain through poetry, surviving the climate apocalypse through new (and ancient) narratives, surviving the present through dystopian fiction.
We are / afraid that our parents will see us one day on television: / limbs heaped over each other, syrup-drenched, becoming pixels / that flit across the screen.
This is what I want to do with my late seventies, / honor the sky, scatter stained glass on the sidewalk, // follow the path their hues take us, you beside me.
The end-of-summer book rush is here: Jane Austen and the Brontës reimagined, poetry lauding birdsong and lamenting Twitter, and new novels by familiar authors.
Amid the confusion created by the pandemic, one thing is clear: the 2020 election will be unlike any other. Here’s some of Commonweal’s best writing on the subject.
