[ : ]
You take the clothes that are left:
two pairs of jeans, four t-shirts,
a jumper, underwear, socks.
You fold each item, then press them
into a bag.
You go to the bathroom,
take a fresh towel and a bar of soap.
The towel is white, the soap amber.
It smells medicinal.
Toothbrush, toothpaste, razor.
It is eleven pm.
You pick up the car keys. (Lars Horn)
I’ve
finally managed to secure copies of the two most recent editions of headlight anthology, an “annual,
student-run graduate journal” produced by Montreal’s Concordia University,
through their English Department. If you follow my reviews at all, you most
likely already know that headlight is
one of a small handful of annuals I follow [see my prior headlight review here], all of which emerge from schools
with engaged creative writing departments, including SUNY-Buffalo’s P-QUEUE (see my review of the latest here), or Ryerson University’s White Wall Review. Given that Concordia has long had a strong Creative Writing
Department, one would think that the anthology would be given more promotional
heft from the institution (or even the community, really), as an advertisement
for what they are attempting to accomplish.
The
twentieth annual edition of headlight
includes an array of poetry, fiction and artwork (including a stunning visual, “Under
Moonlight,” by Katrina Piacek) by a plethora of emerging writers, including
Madeleine McDonald, Melanie Power, Nicola Sibthorpe, Eileen Holowka, Matteo
Clambella, Madelaine Caritas Longman and Jessica Bebenek (the only name within
that I’m already familiar with), among others. There are some really
interesting pieces in this issue, such as Eileen Holowka’s powerful and
evocative “Excerpts from the narrative game
circuits,” that includes:
everyone always says water tastes like nothing,
but the taste of nothing changes between cities. in winnipeg, the water tasted
like snow, in montreal, like rain. in new york, like the steam rising out of
the sewers. i take all of these flavours in, try to discern what home tastes
like.
i
have become a connoisseur of nothing.
The
latest volume, subtitled “Interruptions,” is the twenty-first, and the foreword
by Editor-in-Chief Emily Crompton and Managing Editor Penelope Kerr is
fascinating for its response to a growing series of stories over at Concordia
University of multiple examples of sexual misconduct and a general toxic
environment throughout the department. Citing allegations and stories told by
Mike Spry, Emma Healey, Heather O’Neill and Stephen Henighan, they write from
what might seem, to some, the centre of a storm: “To the people who have
experienced these awful and quiet tragedies: we see you, and your experiences
are valid.”
Headlight has celebrated,
supported, and brought artists together for more than twenty years, but we feel
it is especially important to acknowledge community now, in the face of crisis.
We would like to reaffirm our commitment to change, especially for those of our
readers and contributors who are Concordia students. It is through these
disturbances that we are reminded to do better and be better for each other.
“Interruptions”
includes contributions from Hugh Deasy, Michael D’Itri, Miles Forrester, Ann
Kruzelecky, Chloe Levman-Dolgin, Marlene Oeffinger, Marianne Paquette, Fawn Parker, Alexei Perry Cox, Sabina Reeves and Olivia Wood. Highlights to this
volume include the exhaltations of Michael D’Itri’s “STOP,” and the rush of
Fawn Parker’s “CRISIS STATE” (you did pick up her 2015 title from Metatron, yes?), that includes:
The closing of the skin
draping over the thick boiled white the liquid retained in the membrane the
shine of the wetness on the thick white plush the prevention of the sour yellow
leak with the redraping of the skin the liquid information the information
parts the sorting and ordering of the shifting shapes the difference between
the sour yellow hitting the conglomerate
! and the projected throatpit
wolliness in the tented cavern recreate it in this one specific way
If
previous editionso of headlight are
any indication, there are names in these issues you will most likely see again,
so I would recommend you pay attention.
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