A small blog advertising illumination of the outer fringes of literature lies, itself, dark – cobwebbed words – dust in the virtual essence…
…or something like that.
For now, until we get back on track, check out Cirque, Vol. 4. No. 1. It’s a self-described “Literary Journal For the North Pacific Rim”, published by Clock Point Press a-ways up in Anchorage, Alaska. There are stories, non-fiction and reviews, but the poems are the most noteworthy. They are crisply austere and cinched tightly with the kind of short, hard syllables that must reflect the landscape and rhythm of the lives of these poets (mainly Northerners themselves).
The two poems by Doug Blakensop, in particular, seem to have emerged, sharply formed, from the frozen native, soil. Kaija Klauder’s zen vision of winter is like something akin to a Northern Riprap. And there is also a fine, chilled reminiscence by Patrick Lane that shines like diamond ice.
Travel North a while, via http://www.cirquejournal.com