Highlighting recently released and forthcoming works by marginalized creators
“And I was taught not to use certain words in poems / but sometimes I act undisciplined to feel better” Amber states in the opening poem of Peppermint. Through cutting matter-of-fact language, Peppermint is a reel of personal lore: a childhood on a farm in Missouri, sights of San Marcos squirrels, queer kisses between games of Magic the Gathering, all interspersed with abstract recipes like a “Recipe for Finding a Body.” Peppermint sits with both the terrors and beauty of queer life—loving despite traumatic childhood memories, depression, and a tyrannical transphobic state.
Peppermint quite literally has cooling properties, bringing a refreshing approach to poetry. Isaac winks at the reader, asking questions like, “If I mention poppers will this poem exclude you?” She brings a levity to her poetry, a minty fresh approach that cuts through the heaviness with necessary humor.
Peppermint is for the queers raised on farms. Peppermint is for horror movie lovers. Peppermint is for tgirls who stole bras in their youth. Peppermint is for anyone who has fallen in love with the Coca Cola bottles a lover leaves behind on the nightstand. Amber invites us to sit with the anger and sadness that comes with living under capitalism and false hope, stating “They lied when they said anything is or was possible, / but we tell stories to children / so they know what to do in their final moments.” Despite all the depressing conditions, Peppermint still urges outsiders to stand strong in their resistance: “Maybe this is the apocalypse talking, but / I know what is important, and it is not them, / it is the damned like us.”
References include but are not limited to: In Cold Blood, Alien, Goodfellas, poppers, kayfabe, Magic the Gathering, Prince, Goya, Steve McQueen, Taylor Swift t-shirts, Avril Lavigne, and Gregg Araki.
Is a parent responsible for a child who commits a crime? If so, how can she deal with that burden?
These are the questions that haunt Flo when her daughter Teddy plans to visit after a long separation. The prospect of seeing Teddy brings back painful memories of Teddy’s troubled past—a young teen imprisoned for committing murder. Can Flo find the strength to support or even cope with her daughter as she is now? Can she resurrect hope for either of them?
Flo must thrash through these questions alone; her dear friend and confidant has just died. Then, as she’s grappling with grief and guilt, her dog goes missing, and she takes a long walk to find him. On the surface, this is all that happens: A simple walk through a desert town. Encounters with people who uplift or unsettle her along the way. But for Flo, this journey becomes much more—a personal odyssey, as profound and disorienting as Ulysses’. She remembers an old folktale passed down by her family, about a young woman’s mythical journey to find her place in the world. Echoes of this tale play through the current story, and the hunt for Dog turns into a metaphysical search for meaning.
Some readers will recall Flo and Teddy from Strange Attractors, the outstanding collection that critics compared to Chekhov and Flannery O’Connor. As her sequel to the mother-daughter story unfolds, Janice Deal once more reveals the extraordinary depths of unpretentious people. The Blue Door is a radical adventure, both compulsively readable and meditative—a rare combination.
This Strong Mercy by Linda Welsh
In This Strong Mercy, Linda Welsh delves into Earth’s critical tipping points—melting ice sheets, permafrost thaw, deforestation, coral reef decline, and more—to transform our understanding of complex ecological systems through accessible and evocative poetry.
Blending lyrical beauty with scientific insight, these poems chronicle the frayed edges of environmental collapse, balancing stark truths with moments of awe. Welsh captures the interconnected fate of humanity and nature, urging readers to confront the realities of our changing planet while cherishing what remains.
A poignant tribute, a call to action, and an impetus for thought, This Strong Mercy challenges us to reimagine our relationship with our world. It’s a poetic declaration of what’s at stake and a compelling argument to try to save what we can.
VAGABOND CITY 