Celebrating the strange little plant with a deep-rooted history as a Southern food staple.
She wore the kind of cross necklace
you would find in a bargain box,
the holy rejects of sacrilegious salesgirls
Pedestrians strolling the sidewalks of Key West are advised to look down — they just might encounter a poem.
a southern college town
quiet antebellum square
except on football weekends
My head is in the mountains
where she’ll be commin’ around
any minute now, to take me away
Warm, red clay
yields at the weight
of second hand dress shoes
Whitman wrote that the barn doors were open in the high hay
and his body was electric and his soul mad with the excitement of death
Our final poet interview with Jennifer Horne, pictures from World Book Night, Stephen King talking shop with Karen Russell, and the Alabama Writers Symposium this weekend. Happy Literary Friday!
An interview with Alabama poet, writer and avid gardener Jennifer Horne.
South Fork lives in the shadows of mountains just big enough
to mine, like that shady spot in the woods where you used to
build your forts. He carries a Bible for protection, and a pistol