We believe that poetry (read: writing that exists art-first) is the biggest hope and best proof that humans are not simply the most violent ornaments of a perplexing planet. Poetry is how we may exclaim, buttress, and boast of the largess of our spirit, a spirit we trumpet in all of art’s forms but which, in poetry, rises to raw song and rallying cry. And that cry is a call to attention: an exhortation towards precision, toward a spirit realized out of clarity of vision, not obfuscation, even as it struggles with subjects beyond conception. We believe in poetry as the most admirable vice, we love its scholarship, its music, its quietudes and violences, the way it seems to mean, and the way it escapes paraphrase. And we believe there are more of us out there, who see poetry the same way: who yearn to be saved by the same songs. Therefore, we’ve created this space for the soul-fulfilling work we love, to curate, study, and comment upon it at the same torrid pace as any other art form. At Ovenbird we believe that whether the poetry is written in celebration, in lamentation, in self-defense, or as a threat, we need to see more of it. Once it exists, we need to discuss its meaning, function, and effect (whether it holds tight or all falls apart). Each issue will feature new works that cry out to that largess of spirit, as well as conversations—actual conversations—on books or works with enough weight to knock us around. We hope to raise the blood of poetry, to spark life in its readers, and to learn to better understand our own dramatic connection toward the enlightened art.
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