[CORRECTION] New in Air/Light: Elizabeth Crane, Jessica Goodfellow, and Robert Fitterman
[In the previous draft, our headline noted work by “Sarah Goodfellow.” This should be “Jessica Goodfellow.”]
Dear Readers,
I think we can all agree that the vibes on this planet have shifted. If this were a party, now would be about the time to leave.
But without the option of leaving, we’re left with getting by. And that’s where literature, writing, and art come in, as a way of connecting with each other in times of struggle. As editor David L. Ulin wrote in his introduction to Issue 6:
“For a moment only—which is all we have—I was reminded of literature not as an engine of empathy (although it is that also), but rather as a mechanism of radical intimacy, in which writers and readers together drop our guards, and in so doing are revealed.”
We have so much amazing writing this week: fiction by Elizabeth Crane, poems by Jessica Goodfellow, and the final excerpts from Robert Fitterman’s epic poem.
We think you’ll love it all.
✌️
The Editors
Elizabeth Crane: “The Depressed Baby”
The depressed baby is not actually depressed, but he is a baby. His mom will consider his expressionless little face and it’s true, this baby is not a smiley baby, but the depressed baby’s mom takes this to mean something other than what it is, which is just that this baby’s worldview is maybe a little more advanced than his language. The depressed baby is just not going to smile for no reason. This is his plain face.
Robert Fitterman: Creve Coeur Parts 3 and 4
On a stone bench by the lake, a young guy, maybe 16, strumming his guitar, and a bigger guy, with a thick beard (for his age) is standing next to him singing along—a proud and gregarious baritone. The song is a duet about rejecting fatherly advice. Some more friends mosey around the lake’s edge: a few Imo pizza boxes, Marlboros, Busch beer… it could almost be a picnic, except for that one dude, his name escapes me, wasted on quaaludes, flicking his cigarette into the void. Balthazar! That kid’s name was Balthazar!
Jessica Goodfellow: “Hither,” “Submission”
Submission
I looked up
the word anneal,
to see if it meant
the heating up
or the cooling down,
and it turns out
to mean both—
the whole process
of making metal
more workable or
glass less likely
to shatter.
And I thought,
how strange,
that anneal sounds
so much like kneel,
because I can
think of nothing
done while kneeling
that doesn’t do
the same
as annealing—
heat up and
cool down,
make ductile and
make durable,
metal and
glass.