Welcome to Issue 27!
While it may be hazy, hot, and humid outside, all is cool at Radar Poetry.
In this issue, we marvel at the genius of 13 poets and 8 visual artists. Together, they tell a story of our times.
We found so much symmetry in these poems that we couldn't resist sharing the remix/mashup below. The first line of each poem in Issue 27 has been borrowed to create this fresh summer selection. Please enjoy responsibly.
I call a caterer in another time zone
Look I’ll say it before we get started
flame in slow motion curls
& ripples like yellow silk
We might be late for the rest of our lives
and know it wouldn’t matter
A tree extends beyond its needles
and inhabits—fully—its needs
It sings in its pain
Does not wail but sings upending
The rabbit falls asleep in his nest,
his chest rising and falling
Then came, with time, a sort
of deadening
My eyes start poking up and I press them in until they’re smooth and flat
physics governs the generation of the wave
The grip is everything
The mustard fields are flowering,
yellowing the hills, my heart breaking
open with the blooms
In other news, we are currently reading submissions for the Coniston Prize. This year, we are fortunate enough to have Ada Limón choosing a winner from among our finalists. Please go to the contest page to read our guidelines and submit. Deadline: September 1.
Thank you for reading, looking, and enjoying Issue 27. We are, as always, humbled and delighted to be here with you!
—Dara-Lyn Shrager and Rachel Marie Patterson, Editors