The Heir | Andrew Coburn
Forced March | Robert Lietz
Dear Leader Dreamer | Gabriel Check
Antipastoral: Dairymen | Amy Groshek
Snapshots of the Epic | Gregory Lawless
Three Reliquaries | Laurence Davies
The Inexorable | Stefanie Freele
Travel Photography | Joshua Walker 
Post-Christmas Inventory | Laura Kolb
Cityscapes, Silos, Blue Nudes | Amber Krieger
Farming Silence | Lauren Ashleigh Kenny
Evan in the Tent | Walter Cummins
Three Poems | Grace Wells

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Three Poems by Grace Wells

Poems have their own life in the world. They cross oceans, have conversations, sign contracts that we mortals can only honor. Grace Wells sought out Contrary after reading “Why It Almost Never Ends With Stripping,” a poem by our poetry editor, Shaindel Beers, that appeared last Spring in another journal. Grace sent us work she thought conversant with Shaindel’s poem, and we were immediately taken with Grace’s poetry, which treats the most ordinary of human concerns, like loneliness, with the most extraordinary language, and treats the most immediate of concerns, like violence, with timeless calm. But her poems span more than earth and sky, they span the Irish Sea as well. Grace Wells is an English poet and novelist living in the South of Ireland. Her writing marries sceptred isle and terrible beauty more harmoniously than history has done. On the following pages: three poems by Grace Wells and an interview (which happily links to a fourth poem). – ed.

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commentary | poetry | fiction | chicago | spring 2007   

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