Fayum Portrait

by JAMES HOCH

             [Field Manual]

Sunday, there she goes again, toddling
             out the door, off the back deck, tumbling

in her church dress, a field of hand-
             painted green stems and yellow flowers,

so that stunned, staggering forward—
            Brother, no IED, no gag a god pulls,

today, no one dies. It’s just sky,
            dress, sky. There’s no manual for this—
 

[Purchase Issue 14 here.]
 

James Hoch‘s poems have appeared in The New Republic, The Washington Post, Slate, Chronicle Review, American Poetry Review, New England Review, the Kenyon Review, Tin House, and Ploughshares. His books are A Parade of Hands and Miscreants. Currently, he is a professor of creative writing at Ramapo College of New Jersey and guest faculty at Sarah Lawrence.

Fayum Portrait

Related Posts

Black and white image of a bird with a long neck

Dispatch from Marutha Nilam

SAKTHI ARULANANDHAM
With the swiftness and dexterity / of a hawk that pounces upon a chicken / and takes it by force, / the bird craves / snapping up a vast terrain / with its powerful, sharp beak / and flying away with it. // When that turns out to be impossible, / in the heat of its great big sigh, / all the rivers dry up.

Tripas Book Cover

Excerpt from Tripas

BRANDON SOM
One grandmother with Vicks, one with Tiger Balm, rubbed / fires of camphor & mint, old poultices, / into my chest: their palms kneading & wet with salve, / its menthols, to strip the chaff & rattle in a night wheeze. Can you / hear their lullabies?

Blue cover of There is Still Singing in the Afterlife

Four Poems by JinJin Xu

JINJIN XU
my mother, my father. / Her skinny blue wrists, his ear caressing a cigarette. In the beginning, / it is already too late, but there is hunger & no time / to waste. All they need are six hands, three mouths, a clockwork / yearning for locks of their own, windows square & fresh.