Ange Mlinko

Ange Mlinko’s new book, Difficult Ornaments: Florida and the Poets, is due next month.

Poem: ‘The Mechanicals’

Ange Mlinko, 3 June 2021

‘Couples can wed at the Miami Zoo …’She is laughing to her confessor,a tightswathed, foiling hairdresser(whose biceps playing peekaboo,

as he parts and lifts and snips,suggest the weight of the flattening ironor the tensility in the ringlets of that sirenchatting about her ‘upcoming trips’).

Zoe, meanwhile, creases my headdress,also of foil, in which I look,arrayed...

Like Washbasins: Yiyun Li

Ange Mlinko, 6 May 2021

Lilia Imbody​ (née Liska), ‘from Benicia, California’, is the resident curmudgeon at Bayside Garden retirement community: ‘anyone sitting next to her fell into the category of the unwelcome.’ She’s also a specialist in mordant wisecracks:

Jane was complaining this morning that all she could remember were the things before she turned ten and after she turned...

When​ Harry Mathews died in Key West in 2017, just shy of his 87th birthday, he was remembered as the first American member of Oulipo, the expatriate author of several experimental novels: The Conversions (1962), Tlooth (1966), The Sinking of the Odradek Stadium (1975), Cigarettes (1987), The Journalist (1994) and My Life in CIA (2005). A final novel, The Solitary Twin, was published...

Echo is a fangirl

Ange Mlinko, 3 December 2020

If you’re a poet, and also a philosopher of language who dotes on the real-world consequence of words, it comes as a shock that words have no bearing, finally, on death. ‘That you can’t edit.’ The great licentiousness of language lies in its counterfactuals: that is its source of invention, in play as well as villainy, but therein also lies Riley’s problem: she can be told her son is dead, she can say it to herself a hundred ways, but words are just that. It’s only with the continuation of his non-return that the fact sinks in.

Swamp cypress candled itself above the waterwhere Nereus’ daughterID’d carnivorous-looking white bloomsand erect scarlet racemesexciting an admiral, plus somesmall yellow species, all sulphur and helium.

She even thought she saw a hummingbirdfeasting on the bells of bright red –less a creaturethan a miniaturetourbillon tweezing a gap in the humdrumspace-time continuum.

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