We’ve got great work up on the main AGNI website—an essay by Marilyn Abildskov, two poems by Ciaran Berry, and two poems by Jason Tandon. Check it all out!
“When you were a Mormon girl, your future was mapped. You knew that one day you would live in a two-story brick house, that the house might be on Emerson Avenue or Logan Avenue but wherever it was, there would be a vegetable garden in the backyard, a soft-spoken priesthood-holding husband inside, ginger-haired children you drove to swimming practice and piano lessons and skiing trips on the same slopes where you learned to ski so many years before. In addition, you would probably have a cabin in the mountains, one with a lofty fireplace in a family room spacious enough for everyone to stretch out and play Monopoly. And on Sundays? You would all sit together on one of the front pews, sharing hymnbooks, the older kids holding the younger ones in their laps.
“And when you’re not a Mormon girl?”
from the essay “And Who Can Say It Will Not?” by Marilyn Abildskov
“you yelled out ‘right leg’ and I answered ‘green.’
We both waited for the other to topple onto an elbow or a knee
as the updraft passed through Jonesboro and Pinckneyville,
gathering to its core a rowboat, a rocking chair, a woman on a bicycle.”
from the poem “Twister” by Ciaran Berry
unrolling the scroll
I don’t know
from the poem “Having Forgotten to Put out Fresh Towels, I Run Naked and Wet to the Bedroom” by Jason Tandon