Mercedes Lawry, whose poem appears in Vol. 5 of Packingtown Review, lives in Seattle, so not that far from the Northern border. But no matter how near or far a national border is from where we stand, we all live among those who move between countries–or we are them.
In her poem published in Vol. 4 of Packingtown Review, Ksenija Simic-Muller offers a surprising look at decluttering before it was even a thing.
This poem from Vol. 3 of Packingtown Review, by Christina Cook, is beautiful. The phenomenon captured is ugly. Poets walk on that razor edge when they condemn the destruction of ocean habitats so that the few can profit. The goal is never to make the ugly beautiful.
During a pandemic and after, there’s a pandemic of pandemic lit. Another thing during a pandemic: some poems innocently written Before read like premonitions about Now. A case in point is this poem by Carol Guess, published in Vol. 2 of Packingtown Review exactly a decade ago.
This Sunday, we take another look back at the first issue of Packingtown Review, in which theorist and poet Tung-Hui Hu instructs us to do some light fortunetelling.
In our series of poetry flashback, we’ve come to the present: Vol. 13 of Packingtown Review, our most recent. In it, Mark Jackley revisits the past.
Some of our best physicians are poets, and some of our best poets are physicians. Such is the case with Natasha Deonarain, whose work appears in our Vol. 12.
Poems written in one context begin to resonate in a deeper, or at least different way once we enter a new era. For example, this poem by Michelle Brooks, from Packingtown Review, Vol. 11.
For our Vol. 10, which also happened to be when Packingtown Review turned 10 (we were born in 2008), we put together a reunion issue: all the contributors were past contributors, including Rosmarie Waldrop.
It’s day 10 of the National Poetry Month, but I skipped a day, so it’s our flashback #9. Vol. 9 of Packingtown Review is full of contemporary lit translated from Croatian, and it includes today’s feature, poet Lana Derkač.