CQ 62.3 Winter 2012

AN TRAN

Sara E. Lamer

Craig Beaven

Johannes Lichtman

Judith Ernst

Suzanne Matson

Scott Gould

Marty McConnell

Jim Haberman

Constance Pappalardo

Lois Marie Harrod

Dana Roeser

Lola Haskins

Harold Whit Williams

Victoria Kelly

and more THE

Emily Blake Alverson

W I N T E R 2 0 1 2 | V OL. 62 , N O. 3

F E AT U R I N G A D D I T I O N A L W O R K BY

T H E C A R O L I N A Q U A RT E R LY

His face haunts me at night, this terrifying calm.

I don’t know who he is, why he sits so high above us, why he watches us. Mom and Dad never explained. He is just an ornament, but when everything else becomes dark geometry against the walls, only he is illuminated. Just his face in the darkness, golden like a tiny sun.

$ 9. 0 0

FREE TO UNC STUDENTS POETRY

cq_coverfileFINAL11.indd 1

CAROLINA QUARTERLY

W I N T E R 2012 I S S U E | V OL. 62 , N O. 3

| F I C T I O N | E S S AYS | R E V I E W S

12/16/12 2:34 PM

cq_coverfileFINAL11.indd 2

12/16/12 2:34 PM

P O E T RY

| F I C T I O N | E S S AY S | R E V I E W S

WINTER 2012 ISSUE | VOL. 62 , NO. 3

PHANTASMAGORIC PROSOPOPOEIA SINCE 1948

The Carolina Quarterly is published three times per year at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Subscription rates are $24 per year to individuals and $30 to institutions. Current single issues, back issues, and sample copies are $9 each. Remittance must be made by money order or check payable in U.S. funds. Numbers issued before Volume 21 (1969) can be ‘²Yb²bY n²‘Š ²8Ă‚Âľ *bÂ?²€Â?½ ‘¢V *‘½b ˜Ă?Ă?V €‡‡É‘‘YV 5 ˜Ă?psš¢ €O²‘o‡Š reproduction of single articles and issues can be obtained from University €O²‘o‡Š¾ Â?½b²Â?8½€‘Â?8‡V žĂ?Ă? ¢ 7bbF *‘8YV Ă?Â?Â? Ă?²F‘²V sg˜Ă?š¢ The Carolina Quarterly Éb‡O‘ŠbÂľ ¾ÂFŠ€¾¾€‘Â?Âľ ‘n Ă‚Â?Â?Ă‚F‡€¾}bY oO½€‘Â?V Â?‘b½²ËV Â?‘Â? oO½€‘Â?V F‘‘† ²bĂˆÂ€bɾV 8Â?Y u²8Â?}€O 8²½¢ 8Â?Ă‚ÂľO²€Â?½¾ 8Â?Y bY€½‘²€8‡ ‘² business correspondence should be addressed to the appropriate genre editor at The Carolina Quarterly, Greenlaw Hall CB #3520, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, NC 27599-3520. No manuscript can be returned nor query answered unless accompanied by a stamped, self-addressed envelope; no responsibility for loss or damage will be assumed. We are also now accepting submissions through our website. We do not review manuscripts during the Š‘Â?½}Âľ ‘n 8Ă‹V Ă‚Â?bV ‡ËV 8Â?Y Ă?Ă‚u¾½¡ n‘² Š8Â?Ă‚ÂľO²€Â?½¾ ¾ÂFŠ€½½bY Y²€Â?u ½}b rest of the year, please allow up to four months for response.

The Carolina Quarterly €¾ €Â?YbĂŠbY €Â? ½}b ‘‘† *bĂˆÂ€bÉ Â?YbĂŠV (‘bŠ €Â?Yb²V Â?YbĂŠ ½‘ (b²€‘Y€O8‡ €O½€‘Â?V Š8Â?€½€bÂľ Â?½b²Â?8½€‘Â?8‡ ‘ŠÂ?‡b½bV 8Â?Y ½}b Ă?Â?Â?Ă‚8‡ Bibliography of English Language and Literature. Member Coordinating

‘Â�O€‡ ‘n €½b²8²Ë 8u8΀�b¾¢ ++ ���g š¸Ž¸¢ Library of Congress catalogue card number 52019435.

ABOVE | *8Š‘Â? ²8½b² 8½Â²b *bÂľbÂ˛ĂˆbV ¾²8b‡ Jim Haberman COVER | Centrifugal/Centripedal: “Dark Night of the Soulâ€?

Judith Ernst

O N L I N E AT

www.theca r o l i n a q u a r ter l y. co m

FICTION EDITORS

ASSISTANT EDITORS

POETRY EDITOR

(}€‡ +8�Y€O†

Bhumi Dalia

Lee Norton

Lindsay Starck

Heather Van Wallendael

NON-FICTION EDITOR

COVER DESIGN

WEB EDITOR

€O† ��Yb²Š8�

(}€‡€� O bb

�Y8Š �ub‡

Matthew Hotham | E D I TO R- I N - C H I E F INTERNSU ‘¾}Ă‚8 ²8Y‡bĂ‹V +O‘½½ 8ĂˆÂ€ÂľV bu8Â? 8²‡bĂ‹V ²€¾½bÂ? ‘}Â?¾‘Â?V Ă?‡€Ob 8²½€Â?V ,8ˇ‘² ‘b‡V (b˽‘Â?

Riley, and Nathan Vail FICTION READERS: 8Â… Ă?Â?Yb²¾‘Â? 8Ă‚b²V 8²8 bÂ?Â?b½½V ‘¾}Ă‚8 ²8Y‡bĂ‹V 8²8 ²‘‘ŠV Ă?‡€Ob 8²½€Â?V ‘¾}Ă‚8 (b½b²¾‘Â?V b²²‘Y *‘¾bÂ?F8ŠV ¢ 8Š8² 3€‡¾‘Â?V 8Â?Y 8½b 5‘ÂÂ?u POETRY READERS: 8½½}bÉ 8Â˛ĂˆbĂ‹V *8O}b‡ €b‡V ,8ˇ‘² ‘b‡V 8Â?Â?8} *€YY‡bV 8Â?Y €8Â?8 *‘ÂÊ NON-FICTION READERS: Ă?Â?Y²bÉ Ă?u}8Â?‘² 8Â?Y (b˽‘Â? *€‡bĂ‹

FOUNDED IN 1948 AT T H E U N I V E R S I T Y O F N O RT H C A R O L I N A – C H A PAEULTH HO I LRL N A M E

3

CONTENTS WINTER 2012 | VOL. 62 , NO. 3

P O E T RY 12

EMILY BLAKE ALVERSON | Diving Wake

13

MARTY MCCONNELL | not mentioning tulips

vivisection (you’re going to break my heart) 32

LOLA HASKINS | Bravery Toasts

41

SARA E. LAMERS | White Lesions

42

DANA ROESER | sub-cute

66

LOIS MARIE HARROD | The Former Undertake on His Way to the

Morgue 91

HAROLD WHIT WILLIAMS | What My Brother Says

What My Brother Prays 108

CRAIG BEAVEN | Stargazer’s Field

FICTION 7

JOHANNES LICHTMAN | Mira

19

VICTORIA KELLY | Finding the Good Light

60

SUZANNE MATSON | Boys’ Choir

78

SCOTT GOULD | Orbit

NON-FICTION 94

AN TRAN | Redshift

REVIEW 110 JASMINE V. BAILEY | Voodoo Inverso

by Mark Wagenaar

A RT 6

CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | Swagger

16

CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | Missing Alice Series

33

JUDITH ERNST | Bio-Geometric & Metaphysical Pots

68

JIM HABERMAN | Out of the Middle East Series

90

CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | Song Bird

105 CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | Cantata 106 CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | 3} ½b ½½b²q bµ 107 CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO | White Washed

112

Contributors

E M ILY B L A K E ALVER SON

Diving Wake u}½V n²bµ} 8 Y 8²½ 8 ½ ½}b É8Ë we were left smoking in the morning ² ½ n ½}b o²b¢ uV u²8Ë F Âb heron overhead, he’d started something that was to be lifted above the land, our name, and the house, troubled like the surface of a pond. Morning, my father 8 Y Éb²b É8 uV 8µ n Éb¯Y F ½} µ8½ up from a very young age to remember, before we were lost like dogs. Before there were stories of an ancestor digging this body of water for the ripples to spread out around him like the face of a drum.

12

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

MA RT Y M CCONNELL

not mentioning tulips the sky is full of rock salt. my shoes, O 8 Yb²µ 8u8 µ½ ½}b ²8 ¢ Ð ² can fuck off like her cousins the wind 8 Y µ bË¢ bbY µ b u Y bɵV not all this business of polyps, massive cardiac infarctions, anemones threaded through the old quarry, all the stones b ½ u 8u8 ½}8½ ½} u oÊbµ Yb8½}¢ }b²b Éb 8²b ½²8noO¢ }b²b Éb 8²b 8½ ½}b Yb V here at the visitation, asking the same mayonnaise and white-bread questions as if the graveyard Éb²b 8 F Éoµ} u8²Yb V 8 ½²8 b n ² ½}b ²8½µ to leap on, just some gutted neighborhood passed on the way to somewhere good.

M A RT Y M CCO N N E L L

13

CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO

18

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

| Missing Alice #2

VIC TORIA KE LLY

Finding the Good Light

8 b É8µ ½Éb ½Ë µ Ê É}b µ}b É8µ O8µ½ }b² o²µ½ È bV É} O} ½}b o Yµ½²Ë É8µ O µ Yb²bY Y¢ Ð Y ½ É8µ ½²Âb· ½}b Ëb8²µ Fbn ²b that she had already lived a whole life, as had her castmates, most of É} Éb²b bÈb Yb² ½}8 µ}b É8µ¢ + b u}½µ É} b ½}bË Éb²b o u they sat around in one of the tiny trailers, drinking from plastic cups of beer and wondering how it was they’d all ended up in the backwaters of ² F8 8V 8Ë u 8½ Fb u È b µ½8²µ¢ ,}b o É8µ 8F ½ ½}b b ²bµµ Ëb8²µ É}b 8ÂYb½½b Fb²½ made It Happened One Night with Clark Gable, and Diane was cast as

8ÂYb½½b¢ ½ É8µ 8 ½ Ë È b n² 8 ½ Ë Â µ½8²½ µ½ÂY F8µbY n ²½Ë oÈb minutes outside of Hollywood, and there was an ease and lightheartedness among the cast, a sense that they were never going to be able to pull off such a show believably, so why even worry about it—they were, after all, unknown actors playing famous actors playing characters from one of the most famous movies of the pre-war years. Bill, who played Clark 8F bV É8µ 8 Èb½b² 8² 8 n² (} 8Yb } 8V 8 Y 2 Ob ½V É} É8µ O8µ½ 8µ (8²8  ½ Y ²bO½ ² ²8 8 ²8V }8Y O b µ½²8 u}½ n² ½}b O  ½Ë ½}b8½b²µ n 3} ½b ( 8 µV bÉ 5 ² ¢ Ð n ½}b }8Y Fbb Y µO Èb²bY b É8Ë ² 8 ½}b² FË * bË 8Ëob YV ½}b Y ²bO½ ²V É} µ8 Y ½}b ² never having been on screen before would help people “suspend their Y µFb bn¢­ ² FÂYub½ ²b8µ µV ½}b É} b ½} u }8Y Fbb o bY Ð 8bama over the course of one hot, dusty summer, so by the time the movie premiered in nine theaters, and then nine hundred, and then—to everyone’s amazement—nine thousand, Diane had only been to California one time, to sign her contract before the whole thing began.

She didn’t have an agent or a headshot or a resume, and she hadn’t Fbb 8F b ½ ub½ 8 ½}b² 8O½ u F 8n½b² ½}b o u b YbYV Fbn ²b ½}b movie came out and people learned her name. But then suddenly, they Éb²b O8 u }b²iÉb8 ½}ËV ²½8 ½ b b n² µ Ð ub bµ 8 Y bÉ York, journalists and clothing designers and theater directors who had turned her down for half a dozen roles in the weeks before. She was VI C TO R I A K E L LY

19

offered ten jobs in the period of two days, and she didn’t know who to say yes to, so she jotted down the directors’ names on a yellow legal pad by the phone and said she would call them back. ,}b o²µ½ ½ b µ}b É8µ n ÉbY FË 8 } ½ u²8 }b²V ½ É8µ ² u}½ 8n½b² The Girl from Saint-Mandé É8µ O bY  FË *bu8 ,}b8½b²µV 8 Y µ}b was living in a tiny apartment across from a church in Morristown, New Jersey, where she’d grown up. Her parents were long dead by then, and ½}b 8 ½ É} ¯Y ²8 µbY }b² }8Y ÈbY ½ 8 bµV ² Y8V F½ µ}b µ½ felt a strange attachment to the little New Jersey town—its parks and panederías and even the luxury condominium building that had replaced µ½b ¯µ Yb 8²½ b ½ µ½ ²b¢ Ð Y µ}b bY ½}b }b8ÈËV µ Y b² 8 b Ob n the gray stone church across the street, which always had a light in one of its windows. ½ }8 b bY É} b µ}b É8µ ½}b 8² u u8²8ub n b ½Â²Ë Á V on her way from buying a dress for a friend’s party. She thought she heard something behind her in the stairwell, and it was late, and she had emerged alone into the dark garage, after the store had closed and it was starting to be the time of night when people didn’t go out in certain neighborhoods in Morristown. When the man appeared behind her, and she saw that he was tall and dressed entirely in black, she thought }b É8µ u u ½ Âu ² ²8 b }b²V 8 Y µ}b q u }b² }8 Yµ n² ½ n }b² face as if to protect herself. But then, instead of attacking her, he pulled out a camera and took her picture—and the shot—her stricken, doeeyed expression of terror—appeared the following week in Life & Style.

She took the magazine into the supermarket bathroom and studied the } ½ u²8 }¢ ½ É Â Y }8Èb Fbb ½}² u n ½ }8Y Fbb 8 Ë ½}b² O½Â²b¢ But it was strange, and almost worrisome; she did not look afraid—only stunningly, trustingly child-like—and she realized that this was what people saw when they looked at her—someone who hadn’t been tainted yet by the drama of drugs or money or sex; someone whose best years Éb²b ¯½ 8 ²b8YË Fb} Y }b²¢ ,} µ É8µ É}Ë ½}bË ÈbY }b²¢ ½ É8µ Ë 8 8½½b² n ½ bV n O ²µbV Fbn ²b ½}b ½²Â½} u ½ ½i that she was a divorcee; that she’d already been in the thick of war, had held the hands of women whose husbands had fallen in pieces on the side

20

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

n ½}b ² 8Y¢ ,}8½ }b² 8²b ½µ }8Y Fbb È8O8½ u bÊ O ½Ë Y² u ½}b b8²½}§Â8 b n ¯gpV 8 Y µ Ob ½}b µ}b }8Y Fbb ½ ²b O}²O}bµ ½}8 µ}b O  Y O  ½ 8 Y ½ b Âu} O8 Y bµ ½ o 8 ² ½}²bb ½ bµ ½}b size of her apartment.

She had met Jack when she was nineteen, just out of high school 8 Y 8 ½² ½ (b µ8O 8 ½ 8½ O Y  µ É ½} }b² 8 ½¢ 8O É8µ ½Éb ½Ë ½É 8½ ½}b ½ bV 8 Y ½}b o²µ½ Ébb µ n q u}½ µO} V 8 Y ½}b É8² ²8§ }8Y µ½ Fbu V 8 Y }b É8µ µ n n b8ub² bµµV µ µÉ len with life that she almost believed he could give her back all those sad years she’d lost after her parents died. ½}b 8ÈËV bÈb noOb²µ 8²² bY Ë Â uV 8 Y É ½} n ² ½}µ ½}bË Éb²b Y8 O u ½ ¬,8 b Ë ²b8½} ÐÉ8Ë­ 8 Fb8O} ½µ Yb ½}b F8µb É ½} }b² 8 ½ 8 Y } µ ½}b² 8 Y n8½}b² 8 Y 8 }8 Yn n } µ q u}½ school classmates. She settled easily into the wives’ groups and learned } É ½ µ} É }b² O8²Y ½}b O µµ8²Ë Fbn ²b ½}b O8µ} b² had to ask for it, and how to budget on his ensign’s salary, and how to lie about being military on her job applications so they wouldn’t know she’d probably be gone in another year. She liked the other wives; they called each other a lot, mostly for no reason, and went to movies and traded magazines and played tennis at the courts on base when they weren’t working or watching each other’s kids. Ðn½b² ½}²bb Ëb8²µ 8 Y n ² ÈbµV 8O }8Y } µ É uµ 8 Y É8µ qË u over Baghdad and they were talking about children when he got back. But almost as soon as he was home, he was gone again, to Key West for the next round of workups, and then he went back over the ocean, this time ½ Ðnu}8 µ½8 ¢ +}b ²b8Y 8F ½ +Ð µ ½bµ ½}b bɵ 8 Y bÈb²Ë u}½ while he was gone, when she came home from her job selling accessories at a bridal salon, she always expected to see the chaplain and the other wives standing on her doorstep. Midway through, she got the call that it had happened after all, but to someone else’s husband, and a few hours later she found herself in the sad huddle on some other girl’s driveway.

One miscarriage and two deployments and seven years after their ÉbYY u Y8ËV }b² }µF8 Y O8 b } b n² Ðnu}8 µ½8 ½ ½b }b² the tarmac, full of remorse, that he’d met someone else on the aircraft carrier, and he didn’t want to be married anymore, not to her at least.

VI C TO R I A K E L LY

21

JUDI TH E RN ST | Effects of the Moon (19.5” x 11.5”, glazed stoneware)

J U D I TH E RNST | An Ocean of Fire (20.5” x 11”, glazed stoneware)

JUDIT H E RN ST | Large Metaphysical Problems (16” x 13.5”, glazed stoneware and wax encaustic)

J U D I TH E RNST | In the Reed Bed 2 (19� x 16, glazed stoneware)

(18” x 15”, 20” x 16”, 20.5” x 16”, glazed stoneware, gold luster, wax encaustic, gold leaf)

JUDI TH ERN ST | Rent Asunder/The Sacred Heart: Veils of Flesh, Veils of Sight, Veils of the Mind

SA RA E . L A M ER S

White Lesions Whose sound tastes like legions, suggests multitudes, masses, as if millions of pins q Y Ë Â½}¢ ½²Â½} ½}bË µ½8 F²8 ½ µµÂb¢ + ²b½b Y ½}b µ½8²µ gleaming sharp, dream them clicking on, little brilliances, ²bÈb 8½ ¢ ,}b F YË }8µ ½ n8 bY b¢ 3} ½b bµ µ¢ ,}bË 8²b Èb Ë É} ½b surges, not poison patches the synapses, the neurons beat down. n8 ½}b F YË¢ } ½ µb½ ½}b F² u¢ White lesions—an orchard full blown into blossom, colony of sheep so thick the pasture is wild dots. Or else, yes, snow. How it stuns the ground.

SARA E. LAMERS

41

74

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

JIM HAB E R MAN | Ancient Ruins, Petra, Jordan

75

76

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

JIM HAB E R MAN | Timna Valley, Israel

77

SCOT T GOULD

Orbit ,}b µÂ b² É8µ n ²½bb V É8½O}bY b , µY8 b O b8 } µ n8 b bËb µ O b½ ²b ½}8 b OO8µ ¢ ½ É8µ 8 8O½ ²b ²8O µ than grotesque, at least at that age—an ability that seemed a generous reward for all the pain he’d had to endure because of the refrigerator. Èb²Ë b bÉ }8Y Fbb ½ Y ½ ½  nn 8 b²¯µ ² Yub µÂ b²¢ ,}b }b8½ 8 É8˵ µ}²8 ½}b 8O * Èb² 8 Y ²8 µbY ½µ F8 µV 8 Y Éb Éb²b aware of the appliances and rusted transmissions and angle iron there, µ½  Yb² ½}b µÂ²n8Ob n ½}b O 8 O ²bY É8½b²¢ ² 8F ÈbV Ë Â O  Y ¯½ µbb 8 ˽} u Fb É¢ ,}b É8½b² É8µ É8Ë ½ Y8² 8 Y ½}b F² Yub 8 ½½ b too high. So we always waited until after a good rain to jump. Lonnie’s impatience overcame his good sense one afternoon that summer and he took a Kenmore to the right side of his head. Ðn½b² ½}b µÂ²ub²Ë ½ ½ } µ n8Ob F8O ½ ub½}b²V Ë ½}b² ²bnµbY to let me visit Lonnie. She said it would upset me, but my mother’s subtext was that Lonnie’s stupidity might be contagious. She was a nurse.

She knew better. But she also knew Lonnie did things that brought him within a gnat’s hair of death. He was the boy who hung between the trestle rails when the lumber train ran through town on its way to the paper mill. He was the boy who snuck up on alligators sleeping across the hot sand bars on Black River. Now he was the boy who had fake bones in his face. He was a hero. }b8²Y 8F ½ ½}b 8µ½ O µ Yb n } µ n8Ob u Fbn ²b bÈb² µ8É ½¢ Ë mother came back from her shift at the hospital with daily reports of his progress. “Well, it’s too swollen to tell what it’s going to look like,” she said one afternoon. “One half of his face looks, frankly, like a buttocks O}bb ¢­ }8Y bÈb² }b8²Y Ë ½}b² b ½ 8 Ë F YË 8²½ ½}8½ É8µ O Èb²bY µ½ n ½}b ½ b¢ µÂ µb µ}b µ8É b Âu} ² oObµ 8 Y qbµ}Ë parts at the hospital, she didn’t want to think about more of them at the Y b² ½8F b¢ Ð Ébb 8½b²V ½}b F½½ O}bO }8Y µÂFµ YbY¢ ¬ b u ½ } µ false eye today,” she told me in a voice that sounded too celebratory, the µ8 b È Ob Ë Â u}½ µb ½ 8  Ob ½}b É b² n 8 O}²O} ²8nqb¢

78

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

, Fb } bµ½V }8Y µ½ bY ½} u 8F ½ b , µY8 b 8 regular basis. When you’re fourteen, tragedy is a passing annoyance. b¯µ ²bO Èb²Ë É8µ µ b½} u O  Y ¯½ µbbV µ Y Y ¯½ O µ Yb² ½ ²½8 ½ b Âu} ½ O8½8 u Ë }b8Y¢ É8µ FÂµË É ½} 8² Ob *bbÈbµ¢ +}b É8µ ½}b u ² O µbµ½ ½ Fb u 8 F Ë ½}8½ bÉV 8 Y É8µ µÂ²b ÈbY }b²¢ ¯ ²b 8½ Èb Ë O n Yb ½ ½} µ É8µ 8½b ½ } b² ½ O µ ² u Ë F bµV F½ ²8½}b² ½}b n8O½ ½}8½ O Èb½bY 8 nb 8 b É} could fish and blow smoke rings. On the eighth grade playground, she wore t-shirts with nothing else on underneath and leather gloves she stole from her mother. She’d cut the fingers out of the gloves and during recess, she pretended to be riding a large motorcycle. On one thin forearm was an ink tattoo, a design she freshened every day with an ancient u n  ½8 b ¢ ½ Yb O½bY 8 O bY ²8½½ bµ 8 b 8 Y µ b ɲ ½ u that said, Take no crap from any man woman or child¢ ¯ ½ µÂ²b } É she avoided the principal’s office with crap on her arm and no bra under her shirt, but none of our teachers (women who could detect the rustle n 8 8µµ u ½b 8½ ½} ²½Ë nbb½ ½ ObY b ½}b²¢ ÈbY 8² Ob FbO8µb É8µ µO8²bY n }b²¢ É8µ ¯½ ½}b Ë b¢ ½ Ë n ²½Â 8½b 8YÈ8 ½8ub É8µ µ}b ÈbY Y É ½}b µ½²bb½ n² bV b8²b² u}É8Ë pÁ¢ µÂ b²µV 8µµbY }b² } µb ½}b É8Ë ½ ½}b 8 ½8 }bn É}b Ë ½}b² ² father left money for cheeseburgers on the kitchen counter.

We never knew exactly where my father went the times he disappeared. He didn’t have a job because he couldn’t work. He said his stomach wouldn’t allow it. His stomach was a daily source of drama and conversation when he was around, because he’d lost a sizeable chunk of ½ ² u}½ 8n½b² } µ ²b½Â² n² 2 b½ 8 ¢ Ð µ b8 Ë + ½}b8µ½ е 8 8²8µ ½b µb½  µ} } µ u½V 8 Y 8 Y O½ ² +8 ²8 O µO ²b ÈbY }8 n ½}b µ½ 8O}¢ ½ Y Ë ½½ b F² ½}b² ½}8½ É}b ² n8½}b² É8µ u bV }b was off searching for his missing stomach, and this gave Eli nightmares n ² Ëb8²µ¢ ² n8½}b² É Â Y u Ð3 n ² ½É Y8˵ 8 Y ²b½Â² É ½} 8 spackle bucket full of redbreast and we’d say, Ah, fishing. He’d come back with a black eye and a gash across the bridge of his nose and we’d say, Ah, fighting. Sometimes he would come back after a week and wouldn’t say a word, and we didn’t know what to ask. Neither did our ½}b²¢ ½ É8µ µ½ ½}b É8Ë ½ É8µ ½}b ¢ SCOT T G OU LD

79

A N T RA N

Redshift ¯ µO8²bY É}b µbb ½}b Ob O8² 8² bY n² ½ n ² } µb¢ н µO} V Éb b8² bY ½}8½ ½}b Ob b 8²b }b²b ½ }b · ½}b˯²b ½}b u Y uÂ˵¢ bb ½}² Âu} ½}b ½O}b É Y É¢ ,}b noOb² 8½ ² Y ² is tall, white, with military-cropped red-blond hair. When he knocks, the booms rattle the entire house. He doesn’t look angry.

3}b b ½}b Y ² 8 Y ½}b noOb² µ½8²bµ Y É 8½ bV }b µ µÂ² ² µbY¢ Ë o²µ½ ½} Âu}½ µ ½}b , ÏÏÏ n² Terminator 2, like his glare can shoot spikes of liquid metal into me. He has a clipboard that he looks down at next, and then his face contorts as he tries to read. “Does a Huu-ong Nah-goo-yen Èb }b²bV ½½ b F ˨ µ ½}8½ Ë Â² ² ¨­ b ½² bµ ½ µ b F½ ¯ µ½ ½} u ,b² 8½ ²¢ Y¢ ¬5bµV ½}8½¯µ Ë ½}b²¢­ b 8µbµ bÊ bO½8 ½ ËV b µ}  Y ¯½ µ½ Fb µ½8 Y u ½}b²b¢ µ bËbµ u É Yb¢  Y Ë Â ub½ }b² n ² b¨­ ¬ }V­ µ8Ë¢ ¬+}b µ ¯½ } b¢­ É } µ F² ɵ n²² É¢ ¬ µ Ë Â² } b¨­ µ}8 b Ë }b8Y¢ ¬ É Y 8²b Ë Â¨­ ¬ u}½V­ µ8Ë¢ ¬Ð Y b bÈb ½}µ¢­ ¬Ð²b Ë Â } b 8 b¨ 3}b²b 8²b Ë Â² 8²b ½µ¨­ “My grandma’s here. Dad’s at work.” ¬Ð Y Ë Â² ¨­ µ}²Âu 8 Y }b µ u}µ¢ b }8 Yµ b 8 O8²Y n² his clipboard. “Give this to your mom or dad when someone gets home. ,b ½}b ½ O8 b¢ Ë 8 b µ noOb² 8 Yµ ¢­ Y 8 Y }b b8Èbµ¢ ½ ½}b O8²Y ½}b ½O}b ½8F b 8 Y ²b½Â² ½ ½}b ½b bÈ µ ¢ My brother’s on the couch watching a cartoon. His name is Hieu, but we call him Harry. He’s a small thing, two years younger, still at that age where Barney is fun to watch. My sister Hang probably named him 8n½b² ½}b F un ½ ,2 ½}8½ Èbµ É ½} 8 } 8 n8 Ë¢ +}b O8 µ }b²µb n b8½}b² 8 Y µ}b O8 µ b Ð Y²bÉ µ½b8Y n Ð ¢ +}b µ8 Y ½}8½ Éb 8 bbY Ð b² O8 8 bµ ½ o½ Fb½½b²¢ 3}b ½}b Ð b² O8 u² É Â µi b ½b8O}b²µ ½}b o²µ½ Y8Ë n µO} i½²Ë ½ ²b8Y ² 8 bµV ½}b ² n8Obµ ½ b

94

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

 ½µ 8 Y ½}b ² È Obµ Fbu ½ }8 u É¢ ,}b µ  Yµ O b ½ Y µuµ½ u bO}8 O8 Y² bµ¢ ,}b o²µ½ ½ b }b8²Y ½V  Yb²µ½ Y ² u}½ away why Heather gave us white-people names.

8²²Ë 8µ µ bV ¬3} É8µ 8½ ½}b Y ²¨­ ¬ Y ¯½ É¢ ( Ob noOb²¢ (² F8F Ë n ² b8½}b²¢­ She’s been hanging with a bad crowd since she got into middle school. Dresses in chains and bandanas and keeps a lot of knives in her FbY² ¢ ,É ½}µ 8u V Éb Éb²b bn½ 8 b 8 Y µ}b É8µ ½b½}b²bY FË 8 O bY O ²Y ½ ½}b } b 8O ¢ 8²²Ë 8 Y Éb²b 8Ë u ½8u 8 Y uÂbµµ she didn’t like the noise of our feet, so she started screaming something terrible and walked us into a corner. We were paralyzed. She had this fat kitchen knife, a mirror for empty light that cut into our eyes. She pressed ½}b F 8Yb ² u}½  ½ Ë ½}² 8½ µ O  Y nbb ½}b ²bµµÂ²b n ½}b F 8Yb¢ ¯Y µbb ½}b È bµ· É8µ 8n²8 Y ½}8½ n ÈbY Ë µ É Â Y F²b8 8u8 µ½ ½}b nb¯µ bYub 8 Y ¯Y F bbY ½ ½}b O8² b½¢ b8½}b² µ 8½ ½}² Âu} }b² ½bb½}V ¬ n Ë Â uÂ˵ Y ¯½ µ}½ ½}b nÂO  V ¯ b8Èb Ë Â 8µ O ² µbµ n ² 8 Y 8Y ½ o Y¢­ +}b n½bY ½}b F 8Yb 8 Y ½}b ½bY ½ 8½ 8²²Ë¢ ¬ ½ ½¨­ Ð Y Éb F ½} YYbY Fbn ²b µ}b ½Â² bY 8É8Ë¢ 3b stalked back to our room, locked the door shut, and sat together on the q ² µ b ½ Ë ½}b Y8² ¢ 8²²Ë µ8 YV ¬ 8 Y 8Y É ² ½bO½ µ n² }b²¢­ YYbY Ë 8u²bb b ½¢ ² } µ µ8 b¢ ½ É8µ ¯½ ½²Âb¢ 8 Y 8Y O8 ¯½ ² ½bO½ µ n² 8 ˽} u¢ ,}b˯²b }8 ½ µ ½} µ } µb¢ ,}bË µ8Ë ²8 Y 8 É take care of us, but she’s eighty-something and senile and we leave the } µb n ² } ²µ É ½} ½ }b² ½ O u¢ ,}b Fbµ½ ² ½bO½ n² ² µ µ½b² µ ½ Fb §Â b½V ½ Fb  ½ ObY¢ 8ËFb ½}b Ob noOb² O8 b ½ µ8Èb µ¢ ,}b˯²b µÂ µbY ½ Fb ½}b u Y uÂ˵V ² u}½¨ ¯µ ½ }8 Ë 8n½b² o Y u ½}b noOb²¯µ O8²Y¢ +}b µ ½µ 8²²Ë 8 Y Y É }b² ² 8 Y n Yµ }b² buµ ½ ½Âµ ½}b u²  Y É ½} µ¢ ,}b ² µ È8µ½· ½}b É} ½b O8² b½ µbb µ ½ µ½²b½O} n ²bÈb² 8 Y ²bO½ µ¢ ½ nbb µ b 8 ½b²² u8½ ² V ½}b b ½ bµµ }b²b¢ ,}b²b µ one ornament, a framed picture of Mom and Dad’s wedding day that hangs on the wall. She wears a gold Chinese dress; Dad wears a gray suit. ,}b²b¯µ 8 O µb½ 8½ ½}b n8² b Y É}b²b ½}b } ½ 8 F µ 8²b¢ 8²²Ë 8 Y µ ÂO Ob ½ ½²Ë ½ o Y F8FË O½Â²bµ¢ 3b µO² bY ½}² Âu} ½}b ¸ÏµV A N TR A N

95

8 F 8n½b² 8 F V 8 Y É8½O}bY 8ub b8 µ¢ ,}b²b É8µ 8 n8 ½ b8½}b²V 8 Y 8 ½}b² µ}b É8µ 8 ½ YY b² } Y u É}8½ ½} É8µ 8 n8 ½ b¢ Ð Y ½}b ½}b O½Â²bµ µ½ bYV b 8²²Ë bÈb² bÊ µ½bY ² ½} u n É ²½} }8 b bY bʽ¢ ²b8 ÎbY Ë n² b Yµ É ½} uµ 8F ½ ½}b µb Èbµ ½}8½ Ë 8²b ½µ bÈb² ½ Y bU F Y ½Ë bV o²µ½ É ²YV o²µ½ µ½b ¢ ,}b b ½Ë ² 8 bµ b O Yb²· }Âu Ë bbµ¢ 3}b 8½ V ¯ 8n²8 Y n ½}b F 8O } bµ n }b² bËbµ¢ nbb b ¯ 8 b ½}b ² V b µ 8Yb n 8 b² 8 Y É F² 8É8Ë¢ O Ob ½²8½b ½}b µ  Y n 8²²Ë¯µ F²b8½} u· ½ 8µµÂ²bµ b ½}8½ 8 ½ 8 b¢ ½µ 8 b8µ8 ½ È Ob¢ ¬ n b µ } bV Y ¯½ É8 ½ Ë Â kids to answer the door.” ¬ ½ É8µ 8 Ob noOb²V­ µ8Ë¢ ¬Ð Ob 8 µ 8 µ½²8 ub²¢ Y ¯½ Ë Â² ½b8O}b²µ ½b Ë Â ½ ½ ½8 ½ µ½²8 ub²µ¨­ ub½ 8 §Âb8µË nbb u Ë µ½ 8O}V b É}b b8½}b² 8 Y ² cousin convinced us it was a good idea to try to light a dead squirrel on o²b É ½} 8½O}bµ Éb µ½ b n² ½}b ½O}b ¢ ²b b8½V ¬ ½ É8µ 8 Ob noOb²¢ ² ½b8O}b²µ ½b µ ½ 8 É8˵ µ½b ½ ½}b Ob¢­ 8²²Ë µ µ b ½¢ He stares at Mom with disinterest, like he’s removed himself from the situation. He’s never liked confrontation; if he disagrees, he’ll nod along  ½ Ë Â ½Â² 8É8ËV 8 Y ½}b Y É}8½ }b¯Y Y 8 ËÉ8Ë¢ É µ} O  Y Y µ8u²bb 8 Y µ8Ë ½} uV F½ ½ nbb µ Y ²½Ë¢ (b b É} 8²b ɲ u µ}  Y know they are wrong.

Mom says, “Oh, well, your teachers are wrong. You do not talk ½ µ½²8 ub²µ¢ ( ObV V 8 Ë b Ë Â Y ¯½ É¢ n Ë Â }8Èb ½ ½8 ½ ½}b 8 Y ½}bË 8µ Ë Â 8 ˽} uV Ë Â µ8Ë Ë Â Y ¯½ É¢ 8˨ n ½}bË 8µ É}b²b 8 ² É}b²b 8YYË µV Ë Â ½b ½}b Ë Â Y ¯½ É¢­ Y¢ ,}8½¯µ b8µË· ² F8F Ë don’t know where either of them are at any given b ½¢ ¬ n ½}bË 8µ n ² 8 } b  Fb²V Ë Â ½b ½}b Ë Â Y ¯½ É 8 Ë b¯µ } b  Fb²¢ n ½}bË 8µ É}b²b É ² V Ë Â µ8Ë Ë Â Y ¯½ É¢ Ë Â Yµ  Yb²µ½8 Y¨­ 3b Y¢ ¬5  O8 ½ ½²Âµ½ 8 ËF YË but family. Your family is the only thing that will always be there for Ë Â¢ Ë Â Â Yb²µ½8 Y¨ 5  Y ½ ½²Âµ½ Ë Â² n² b YµV Ë Â² ½b8O}b²µV or canh sat.” She says “police” in Vietnamese as a way to emphasize that point, as if to say, especially the police.

96

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

When she is done with her lecture, we are allowed back to our room. +}b YbµOb Yµ ½}b µ½8 ²µ ½ ½}b È u ² ¢ b8½}b² µ½ µ ¯½ } b¢ ,}b moon creeps into the sky. Eventually, all sound abandons the house.

V 8YV ²8 Y 8 8 Y 8²²Ë µ½8 ½ ½}b ² FbYµ¢ + b Ob µb½½ bµ¢ sneak into the living room downstairs and sit on the couch alone in the Y8² ¢ ,}b ² 8 b ½µ Y µou²b ½}b F 8O 8 Y F Âb¢ ,}b ½b bÈ µ b ½µ ½ ½}b É8 ¢ ,}b²b µ 8 ² µbÉ Y 8 ½8² ½}b n8² É8 É}b²b 8 F² Îb ÂYY}8 µ ½µ¢ b ²bqbO½µ 8F²Â ½ µ Obµ n u Yb u}½ n² 8µµ u }b8Ylights gleaming through the glass of our back door. He is enchantingly q ²bµOb ½¢ + b½ bµ ½}b u}½ O½µ 8O² µµ } µ n8Ob 8 Y ½²Ë ½ O8 ½Â²b ½ Ë Y É}b 8 µ Y8² 8u8 ¢ ,}b Y8² µ ½µ n } µ O µbY bËbµ 8 Y q8½ µV } µ µ ½} O}bb µV ½}b F ub n } µ µbV ½}b ½bʽ²bY 8 Ë O² µ n } µ }8 ²¢ µ n8Ob }8 ½µ b 8½ u}½V ½} µ ½b²² nË u O8 ¢ Y ¯½ know who he is, why he sits so high above us, why he watches us. Mom and Dad never explained. He is just an ornament, but when everything else becomes dark geometry against the walls, only he is illuminated. Just his face in the darkness, golden like a tiny sun.

е ½}b Ébb µ 8µµV ½}b 8µ }8 ½ n ² Y² ÈbÉ8Ë F µ½b²µ ½ oµµÂ²bµ n² ½}b ½b µ obY µÂ b² }b8½¢ ½ FbO bµ } µ½ b ½µ Yb· n Ë Â ½²Ë ½ breathe, the swamp air of Northern Virginia thickens in your throat and µ½² µ¢ O bµ } b b Y8Ë É ½} noOb² 8 Yµ V ½}b ² O ½}bµ mottled with dark spots of moisture, beads of sweat collected on their F² ɵ¢ ,}b noOb² u bµ ½ b8½}b²¯µ ² 8 Y ½}b ½}bË ½8 ² È8½b Ë ½}b ½O}b ¢ 8²²Ë 8 Y 8²b bÊ bYV µ½²ÂO½bY ½ ²b 8  µ½8 ²µ¢ Y ¯½ know why we suddenly can trust policemen again. Mom tells us later that Heather is staying with a friend. We play along because we are used to her lies. Our cousin, closer to Heather’s age, relays the truth to us: Heather has run away with a gang. We’re told she had to give herself to each of ½}b u8 u b Fb²µ ½ Fb 8 ÉbY b ½²Ë¢ É Yb² n µ}b¯µ 8O½Â8 Ë O8 8F b n ½¢ ,}b ½} Âu}½  µ b ½ bµµU 8 ½} µb b V ½}b ² 8ɵ 8 Y ² thirteen year old sister playing out the forbidden scenes in rated-R movies.

But it’s all too easy to imagine Heather stealing, snorting, killing.

A N TR A N

97

C RA IG B E AVEN

Stargazer’s Field Days before you were born É8 bY ½ ½}b ½ n ½}b  ½8 ¢ ,}b²b Éb²b n²½}b²V } u}b² b8 µV 8 Y µ É falling on them, white o u Fb½Ébb F 8O bµ¢ ,}b µ Ë seemed closer than the earth. ½} Âu}½ n ½}b Y µ½8 Ob Fb½Ébb Ë Â 8 Y 8 Y } É É Â Y F² Yub ½}8½ Y µ½8 Ob¢ н ½}b ½ n ½}b  ½8 they raised sheep and rams, in separate pens, a thin line of wire Fb½Ébb ½}b ¢ bÉ ½}8½ ½} bi if you were to touch it it would warm your hands, you would feel it in your bones, and although the rams wanted to cross they had learned not to. ,}bË µ½ Y b²nbO½ Ë µ½ ½}b µ ÉV OO8µ 8 Ë dipping for a mouthful of grass. (b b }8Èb Fbb É8 u  ½}b  ½8 for thousands of years, to look out at the bowl of mountains. South beyond the valley, as land slopes to the sea, you were waiting across a continent just days ½ Fb F ² ¢ ½} Âu}½ n Ë Â safe in your dark water, and thought of you in ten years. We will walk up here together to look at the rams, to look out into the valley. We will see mountains,

108

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

and as clouds move, further mountains like a curtain pulling back across a stage.

3b É }b8² ½}b ²b ²½ n ² qb µ} ½¢ We will wear orange vests that say Y ¯½ µ} ½V ¯ } 8 ¢

C R A I G B E AVE N

109

J A SM INE V. BA IL EY

Voodoo Inverso Voodoo Inverso by Mark Wagenaar - Èb²µ ½Ë n 3 µO µ (²bµµ gÏ 8ubµ· _ ¹¢ p 8 b²F8O

Mark Wagenaar’s Voodoo Inverso is ½}b µ½ ²bOb ½ É b² n ,}b - Èb²µ ½Ë n 3 µO µ ¯µ b Ê ( 8 (² Îb ( b½²ËV 8 Y ½ µ½8 Yµ ½ 8no² b½²Ë ²b8Yb²µ¯ n8 ½} o²µ½ F ² Îbµ¢ b ½}b² 8 ² bO½ F V ² ½}b Y n o²µ½ F É} O} bÈb²Ë½} u ½}b b½ }8µ bÈb² ɲ ½½b µ unconvincingly swept together, these poems are subtly bound by religious O È O½ V b²µ 8 } µ½ ²ËV 8 Y bÈb µ O 8 O µO µ bµµ¢ ,}b F ¯µ ½ ½ b 8 Y µ½8²½ u O Èb² 8ub ²bnb² ½ bnn ²½µ ½ O²F } 8 ½²8noO u 8 Y µ 8Èb 8F ² ½} µ µ bÊ 8 bY ½}b 8O É bYub b ½µ ¢ ,} µ ½ O recurs in the form of dramatic monologues and semi-confessional b µ¢ ½ ½}b F µV o²µ½ 8 Y n ²b µ½V µ½bb bY u ²ub µ 8ub²Ë 8 Y µ O¢ ½ µ 8O bY É ½} } u} Ë Ë² O8 V b8µ u Ë O bÊ b µ that, despite formal gestures, resist easy categorization. ,}b ½ ½ b b V ½}b È Ob n 8 È O½ n } 8 ½²8nn O uV µ ½ Ob8F Ë n²bb n ²bO² 8½ ¢ ,}b Ë Y O8½ n ½}b µ ½Â8½ is in the first line, which sets up what becomes a sumptuous list poem: ¬Ð ½ ½ ²bÈb²µb Ë ½²8nn O b²¯µ O²µb É Â Y }8Èb ½}b Yµ½ º n ½}b µ½²bb½µ n ( ²½ 8 (² Ob¢­ ,}b ²bµ½ n ½}b µ½ µ 8 µb² bµ n 8u 8½ Èb shifts in which the viewer and the viewed switch positions: “birch leaves floating on the river, / a constellation the drowned must look on...the moon in the canal below. / Like seeing myself behind a glass door.” ,}bµb 8ubµV ½}b ² µ½²8 ub bµµ n µb bO½ 8 Y b²µ bO½ ÈbV u Èb 8 more powerful insight into the desolation of the lost speaker than an 8 u²Ë b O  Y }8Èb¢ ,}b O² b µ 8 ½}b ²b F ½½b² n ² ½}b §Â b½ ½ bV ½}b 8Fµ½²8O½ n F 8 b¢ ½ µ ²8²b ½ ²b8Y µÂO} 8 µb µ ½ Èb ²b Yb²ing of another’s voice.

110

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

(8²½ n 8 bV µ}bb² 8 Y 8 µ½ µµ8F bV n² ¬,}b ½O}b² É ½} Nothing But Bones” that struck me for its importance: “as if platelets }8Y bÈb² º Fbb 8 O b½b ˵½b²Ë¢­ Ð ½}b²V n² ¬*bÈb 8 ½V­ b of many poems that plays with the Orpheus and Eurydice myth: “Someone who has only half-returned // from that world would recognize it, µ b b F² bY º FË ½}b È Obµ ½}b o²bµV 8 n ½ µ½ ½}b O Yb²µ¢­ ½} n ½}bµb bµ µ b8 ½ 38ub 88²¯µ µÂOObµµ b½²Ë¯µ µ bO oO ½8µ U µ} É u ½} uµ O µ Yb²bY  Y8 b ½ Fb 8 ˽} u F½¢ ,}b µ b8 b²V always hopeful and longing, struck with joy and pain, is a straddler of É ² Yµ ½}8½ µbb ½ }b²b ½ Ë bÊO ÂYb b 8 ½}b²¢ ,}b É ² n ½} µ book is to make us marvel at the silliness of going through the world unstunned—unawed. ,}b b½¯µ 8 Ë YbY O8½ µV §Â ½8½ µ n² ½}b² b µ n²bquently in their original language), and the vast repertoire of images, locales, and concerns, give some insight into the artistic influences that }8Èb µ}8 bY } ¢ ,}b F µbb µ ½ È ½b Ë Â 8½ bÈb²Ë ½Â² ½ ²b8Y other books, visit other places, know more things, to see if you can discover for yourself some of what this poet renders so compellingly in words.

J A S M I N E V. BA I L E Y

111

CONTRIBUTORS WINTER 2012 | VOL. 62 , NO. 3

EMILY BLAKE ALVERSON’s work has appeared in Cargoes. Originally n²‘Š +�8²½8�F²uV +‘½} 8²‘‡€�8V ¾}b €¾ O²²b�½‡Ë 8 ¾½ÂYb�½ 8½ ,‡8�b University in New Orleans.

JASMINE V. BAILEY’s chapbook, Sleep and What Precedes It, is avail8F‡b n²‘Š ‘Â?u‡b8n (²b¾¾V 8Â?Y }b² F‘‘† ‡bÂ?u½} Š8Â?Ă‚ÂľO²€Â?½V Alexandria, is n‘²½}O‘Š€Â?u n²‘Š 8²Â?bu€b b‡‡‘Â? -Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë (²b¾¾¢ +}b €¾ 8Â? 8¾¾‘O€8½b editor of 32 Poems.

CRAIG BEAVEN €¾ 2€¾€½€Â?u Ă?¾¾€¾½8Â?½ (²‘nb¾¾‘² 8½ ½}b -Â?Â€Ăˆb²¾€½Ë ‘n ‘¾½‘Â?¢ (‘bŠ¾ 8Â?Y ²bĂˆÂ€bɾ 8²b ‘½ ‘² n‘²½}O‘Š€Â?u €Â? Rattle, Copper Nickel, Third Coast, Southern Humanities Review, and others.

JUDITH ERNST €¾ ‘²€u€Â?8‡‡Ë n²‘Š ½}b ‘²½}Éb¾½ ɀ½} 8 Ă? n²‘Š +½8Â?n‘²Y University. She has painted, published illuminated books, and lived and ½²8Ăˆb‡bY bʽbÂ?ÂľÂ€Ăˆb‡Ë €Â? Ă?¾€8¢ Â? 8YY€½€‘Â? ½‘ }b² Ob²8Š€O ɑ²† 8Â?Y ½É‘ Â?Ă‚F‡€¾}bY €‡‡Â¾½²8½bY F‘‘†¾V Âľ}b }8Âľ 8Â? 8²½€O‡b ½€½‡bY ÂŹ,}b (²‘F‡bŠ ‘n ¾‡8Š€O Ă?²½V­ Â?Ă‚F‡€¾}bY €Â? Muslim Networks: From Hajj to Hip Hop and }8Âľ FbbÂ? €Â?ĂˆÂ€Â˝bY ½‘ ‡bO½Â²b ‘Â? 8²½ ½‘Â?€OÂľ €Â? 8‡8˾€8V ÂÉ8€½V 8Â?Y )8½8²¢ Ă? O8½8‡‘u ‘n }b² Ob²8Š€O ɑ²† É8Âľ Â?Ă‚F‡€¾}bY FĂ‹ ½}b ,²†€¾} 3‘ŠbÂ?ÂŻÂľ

‡½Â²8‡ Ă?¾¾‘O€8½€‘Â? €Â? ¾½8Â?F‡ €Â? bObŠFb²V Ă Ă?Ă?Ž¢ ²Â?¾½ É8Âľ 8 n‘ÂÂ?Y€Â?u ŠbŠFb² ‘n *Ă? 8‡‡b²Ë €Â? }8Â?b‡ €‡‡V 8Â?Y €¾ O²²bÂ?½‡Ë ‘Â? ½}b Ă?YĂˆÂ€ÂľÂ‘Â˛Ă‹ ‘8²Y ‘n ½}b Ă?²½ G ¾‡8Š (²‘…bO½V 8 O‘‡‡8F‘²8½€‘Â? Fb½ÉbbÂ? -Â?€versity of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Duke, and the North Carolina +O}‘‘‡ ‘n ½}b Ă?²½¾¢ SCOTT GOULDÂŻÂľ oO½€‘Â?V Â?‘b½²ËV 8Â?Y Â?‘Â?oO½€‘Â? }8Ăˆb 8Â?Â?b8²bY €Â?

Kenyon Review, New Madrid Journal, Black Warrior Review, Yemassee, New Stories from the South, and New Southern Harmonies, among others.

He has work forthcoming in Bull: Men’s Fiction. He is a past winner of

112

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

½}b ½b²8½Â²b b ɵ} n² ½}b + ½} 8² 8 в½µ µµ 8 Y ½}b O½ b ɵ} n² ½}b + ½} 8² 8 ÐO8Yb Ë n н} ²µ¢ b teaches creative writing at the South Carolina Governor’s School for the в½µ ?  8 ½ bµ ²bb È bV + ½} 8² 8¢ JIM HABERMAN is known for his bizarre and humorous photographs and several documentary projects. He also created a series of 40 postcards n² } µ É ² ¢ Ð u ½}b ÂF O O bO½ µ É} O} O ÂYb ¯µ } ½ u²8 }µ 8²b ½}b F ½}b§Âb 8½ 8 bV (8² µ· ½b² 8½ 8 µb n (} ½ u²8 }ËV * O}bµ½b²V bÉ 5 ² · 8 Y Yb ²Y È8 µb V O ²YV Massachusettes.

LOIS MARIE HARROD’s 12th collection, The Only Is, won the 2012 ,b bµµbb }8 F ½bµ½¢ b² ½}V Brief Term, a collection of poems about teachers and teaching, was published in 2011. Cosmongony won ½}b ÁÏ Ï 8Îb 8 }8 F ÐÉ8²Y¢ +}b ½b8O}bµ ²b8½ Èb 3² ½ u 8½ ,}b bub n bÉ b²µbË¢ LOLA HASKINS’ poems have appeared in The Atlantic, the London Review of Books, The New York Quarterly, Georgia Review, and elsewhere. Her most recent collection is The Grace to Leave¢ +}b }8µ o µ}bY 8 8 µO² ½ µb½ ½}b ² Y8 É Yµ 8 Y É8½b²µ 8 Y µ É ² u another about insects. Her prose includes Solutions Beginning with A and Not Feathers Yet: A Beginner’s Guide to the Poetic Life¢ Ð u }b² 8É8²Yµ 8²b ½}b É8 ( b½²Ë (² ÎbV 8 ² Y8 ÐÉ8²YV ½É Ð nb lowships, and several prizes for narrative poetry.

VICTORIA KELLY ²bOb ÈbY }b² Ð n² ½}b É8 3² ½b²µ¯ 3 ² µ} V }b² Ð + 8  8ÂYb n² 8²È8²Y - Èb²µ ½ËV 8 Y }b² (}

²b8½ Èb 3² ½ u n² ,² ½Ë bubV ÂF V É}b²b µ}b É8µ 8 - ½bY States Mitchell Scholar. Her fiction has been published in Colorado Review, Fiction, and The Idaho Review, among others. Her poetry has appeared in Alaska Quarterly Review, Southwest Review, Harpur Palate, Nimrod, and others. She lives in Virginia Beach and teaches Creative Writing at Old Dominion University.

CO N TR I B U TO R S

113

SARA E. LAMERS is the author of the poetry collection A City Without Trees and the chapbook Applause: The Patron Saint Poems. Other work has appeared in journals such as ÂuÂbV ,}b 8O Âno V 8 +½²bb½ *8uV and Rattle¢ +}b ½b8O}bµ 8½ 8ɲb Ob ,bO} u O8 - Èb²µ ½Ë + ½}ob YV O} u8 8 Y } Yµ 8 Ð b½²Ë n² (²YÂb - Èb²µ ½Ë¢ JOHANNES LICHTMAN’s writing has been published by American Short Fiction, Los Angeles Review of Books, Oxford American, and others.

He teaches graduate liberal studies at UNC Wilmington and runs the Blingtheory blog. “Mira” is a part of his novel-in-progress.

SUZANNE MATSON µ 8 ²bO b ½ n 8 ÁÏ Á O½ 3² ½ u b ɵ} n² ½}b 8½ 8 Y É b ½ n ² ½}b в½µV ½}b 8½} ² n ½É È Â bµ n b½²Ë ÂF µ}bY FË Ð Ob 8 bµ µV 8 Y ½}²bb Èb µV µ½ ²bOb ½ Ë The Tree-Sitter¢ +}b µ 8 ² nbµµ ² 8½ µ½ bub 8 Y n8O ½Ë n ² 8 ²ob Y - Èb²µ ½Ë¯µ É *bµ Yb OË Ð¢ MARTY MCCONNELL Èbµ } O8u V µ É}b²b µ}b É ² µ 8µ 8 n Y²8 µb² n ² 8 Ë Â½} 8 Y O8 Ë Ob ½b²¢ +}b ²bOb ÈbY }b² Ð n² Sarah Lawrence College, and her work has recently appeared in A Face to Meet the Faces: An Anthology of Contemporary Persona Poetry, City of the Big Shoulders: An Anthology of Chicago Poetry, Gulf Coast, Indiana Review, Crab Orchard Review, Salt Hill, Beloit Poetry Journal, and Drunken Boat.

CONSTANCE PAPPALARDO É8µ F ² 8V (b²Â p¹¢ +}b ÈbY ½ bÉ 5 ² ½Ë 8½ ½}b 8ub n b u}½¢ +}b µ½ÂY bY 8 ½ u 8½ ,}b в½ Students League and continued her education at the School of Visual в½µV 8 }8½½8 ¢ (8 8 8²Y É Èbµ 8²ËV ²½} 8² 8¢ Her contemporary abstract watercolors have been featured in numerous galleries in Cary, Raleigh, Chapel Hill, and other cities in North

8² 8¢ +}b µ b Fb² n ½}b 2 µÂ8 в½ ÊO}8 ub *8 b u} 8 Y n ½}b ²}8 в½  Y ²}8 ¢ b² É ² µ 8²b O ÂYbY O8

114

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

corporate collections as well as private collections in the United States 8µ Éb 8µ u 8 YV ²É8ËV b² 8 ËV ½8 ËV ( ²½Âu8 8 Y }b² 8½ Èb (b²Â¢ +}b µ b n ½}b n  Yb²µ n ½}b 8²Ë в½ 8 Y µ ²bµb ½ Ë 8 8O½ Èb b Fb² n ½}b 8Fµ½²8O½ 8 ½b²µ u²  V ,}b }² 87 bµ¢ DANA ROESER is the author of two books of poetry, Beautiful Motion and In the Truth RoomV F ½} É b²µ n ½}b ²µb (² Îb¢ +}b ²bOb ÈbY 8 Ð nb ɵ} ÁÏϸ¢ *bOb ½ É ² }8µ 8 b8²bYV ² µ n ²½}O uV in Prairie Schooner, New Ohio Review, Cimarron Review, Green Mountains Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, Southern Review, Blackbird, and Notre Dame Review.

AN TRAN’s work has also appeared in The Kartika Review, Our Stories Literary Journal, and Connotation Press¢ b µ ²µÂ u 8 Ð 8½ )Âbb µ - Èb²µ ½Ë n }8² ½½b 8 Y Èbµ 38µ} u½ V ¢ ¢V É}b²b }b È Â ½bb²µ 8µ 8 ½Â½ ² n ² gÁ¹

¢ HAROLD WHIT WILLIAMS µ 8 8½ Èb Ð 8F8 8 É ² u F²8²Ë O8½8 u u 8½ ½}b - Èb²µ ½Ë n ,bÊ8µ 8½ е½ ¢ } µ µ 8²b ½ bV }b 8˵ u ½8² n ² ½}b O² ½ O8 Ë 8OO 8 bY ² O F8 Y ½½ 8½}b²¢ µ o²µ½ chapbook, Waiting For The Fire To Go OutV µ 8È8 8F b n² µ} u b (²bµµV 8 Y } µ b µ 8 b8² Atlanta Review, Oxford American, Oklahoma Review, Slipstream, Tulane Review, among others.

CO N TR I B U TO R S

115

P O E T RY

| F I C T I O N | E S S AY S | R E V I E W S

The Carolina Quarterly thrives thanks to the institutional support of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and our generous individual donors. Beyond the printing of each issue, monetary and inkind donations help to fund opportunities for our undergraduate interns, university, and community outreach programs, as well as improvements ½ ² b§Â b ½¢ n Ë Â É Â Y b ²b n ² 8½ 8F ½ Y 8½ u ½ the Quarterly, please contact us at carolina.quarterly@gmail.com or call sÏg ¸¸g¹¢ GUARANTORS Howard Holsenbeck ,bµµ8 µb } O} 8µ Grady Ormsby

FRIENDS

George Lensing O}8b O bb

² µ Ob²b ½}8 µ u 8 µ ½ ½}b noOb n ½}b (² È µ½ 8 Y 2 Ob }8 Ob ² n ² ÐO8Yb O Ðnn8 ²µV 8² 8 b8Yb²µ} bÈb b ½V ½}b  ¯µ b8Y µ} V ½}b ²u8 8 Ë 3² ½b² *bµ Yb Ob (² u²8 V ½}b -

}8 b ²b8½ Èb 3² ½ u (² u²8 V 8 Y ½}b -

}8 b u µ} Department. ,} µ ÂF O8½ µ n YbY 8²½ FË µ½ÂYb ½ nbbµV É} O} Éb²b 8 ² ² 8½bY and dispersed by the Student Government at UNC-Chapel Hill.

116

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

PHANTASMAGORIC PROSOPOPOEIA SINCE 1948

Readers of The Carolina Quarterly have enjoyed over six decades of o b oO½ V b½²ËV bµµ8˵V 8 Y È µÂ8 8²½¢ 5  8Ë È µ ½ ² ÉbFµ ½b ½ µÂFµO² Fb È 8 ² b 8²½ b² ,b ½ + 8 ½ ² 8 ½}b n ² Fb É¢ The Carolina Quarterly ÂF µ}bµ ½}²bb µµÂbµ 8 Ëb8²¢ Y È YÂ8 µÂFµO² Fb²µ may support The Carolina Quarterly 8µ (8½² µ b n ½}b O8½bu ² bµ outlined below.

The Carolina Quarterly µ 8 ² o½ ÂF O8½ · O ½² F½ µ FbË Y the cost of subscription are tax-deductible.

REGULAR SUBSCRIPTION PATRONS

$24 | 1-year subscription $40 MEMBER | 1-year subscription $60 FRIEND | 2-year subscription $85 SPONSOR | 3-year subscription $115 BENEFACTOR | 4-year subscription $150 GUARANTOR | 5-year subscription

NAME ADDRESS Please send a gift subscription to:

NAME ADDRESS

CB # 3520, 510 Greenlaw Hall - j Ð ( Chapel Hill, N.C. 27599-3520

,Ð ,U

carolina.quarterly@gmail.com

W E T H A N K YO U F O R YO U R S U P P O RT O N L I N E A T w ww.th ecar olin aq u ar ter ly.com

118

THE CAROLINA QUARTERLY

!"#$%&'()*+$%,%-'.*/+#0$1*2+3$-'.4 !"#$%&'()*+),-#+./0(!"&$(&+1*$(21*3

5%)%0*/+#0.+$#4&+"

cq_coverfileFINAL11.indd 2

12/16/12 2:34 PM

AN TRAN

Sara E. Lamer

Craig Beaven

Johannes Lichtman

Judith Ernst

Suzanne Matson

Scott Gould

Marty McConnell

Jim Haberman

Constance Pappalardo

Lois Marie Harrod

Dana Roeser

Lola Haskins

Harold Whit Williams

Victoria Kelly

and more THE

Emily Blake Alverson

W I N T E R 2 0 1 2 | V OL. 62 , N O. 3

F E AT U R I N G A D D I T I O N A L W O R K BY

T H E C A R O L I N A Q U A RT E R LY

His face haunts me at night, this terrifying calm.

I don’t know who he is, why he sits so high above us, why he watches us. Mom and Dad never explained. He is just an ornament, but when everything else becomes dark geometry against the walls, only he is illuminated. Just his face in the darkness, golden like a tiny sun.

$ 9. 0 0

FREE TO UNC STUDENTS POETRY

cq_coverfileFINAL11.indd 1

CAROLINA QUARTERLY

W I N T E R 2012 I S S U E | V OL. 62 , N O. 3

| F I C T I O N | E S S AYS | R E V I E W S

12/16/12 2:34 PM