2012 — The Monarch Review — Page 12
Six Questions Regarding The Editorial Process
Friday, May 25, 2012 13:16 — 0 Comments
Six Questions for Jacob Uitti, Managing Editor, The Monarch Review
The Hoot Hoots
Thursday, May 24, 2012 14:47 — 1 Comment
As a fan of local music, it comes with the territory that some, or maybe even many, of the bands that I’m exposed to won’t touch my sensibilities, shake me, make me stare with fascination and awe. Simply, few bands make my feet thrash around the room. But that’s what one looks for, right? A band that inspires, leaves a grin on your face, summons up more adrenaline than a baseball fan seeing Luis Gonzalez hit a single up the middle in the bottom of the ninth of the 2007 World Series to beat the Yankees in 7 games—the home crowd […]
Owl Cat Ink
Tuesday, May 22, 2012 20:36 — 1 Comment
Can 1 live without 0 and 0 without 1? Yes. But, One Zero cannot live without Zero One. When I think about the symmetry and unison in the collaborative work of Mike and Roxanne I can’t help but think of the Bynars. To those not in the know, this is “nerd†speak for a true partnership.  The Bynars are a race of Star Trek beings that live as unified pairs who think and speak in binary code. Their every step, thought and action is completely dependent upon the other. So much so, that they are not two, but one. Mike […]
Amelie – Sandra Ketcham
Tuesday, May 22, 2012 13:12 — 0 Comments
Amelie is tall and thin. In high school, the other girls called her “Amazon Amelie.†She was less thin then and less tall. She stopped eating when she turned 17, lost a lot of weight, and now waits in the hospital for a new kidney to replace the one she starved to death. The night nurse, Josh, feels sorry for her. He thinks Amelie is beautiful, with her thin dark hair and her sharp, angular face, so he spends more time with her than with his other patients. Sometimes, when no one is watching, he sneaks candy bars into her […]
House Finch in Bird Bath – Kevin Craft
Monday, May 21, 2012 15:37 — 0 Comments
Down through backyard dogwood
Joseph Mougel
Wednesday, May 16, 2012 18:44 — 1 Comment
I wonder, if at the time Joseph was creating this body of work he was aware of its implications. We currently live in a world where PTSD and other war related acronyms are part of our rhetoric. Coming from a military background, I can only assume that he heard the echoes of his service. However, today when viewing his work its ghostly quality reverberates the string of our impending future. Though his work speaks to the stripping of identity and implies a whitewashing of the recruit, his photos also give a sense of the missing. His work calls awareness to […]
Condoms On Christmas – Dave O’Leary
Tuesday, May 15, 2012 12:40 — 0 Comments
I woke up Christmas morning alone. It’s the way I wake up every morning, of course, but not my preferred way to do such. I can handle the quiet solitude of late nights playing with the word over a few drinks, of pacing back and forth in my apartment as I fish for the right phrase, sipping and turning and sipping and turning and then running to the laptop when inspiration comes. I’ve dropped beers doing such. I’ve fallen down, banged my knee on the corner of the futon, cursed at the top of my lungs, “Son of a bitch!” […]
Aubrey Hays
Wednesday, May 9, 2012 13:30 — 1 Comment
I have long been a fan of Aubrey Hays. Her work is consistently and provocatively emotive. Her lyrical and richly colored work often leaves me with the feeling that I have myself experienced her moments down to the details of sound, color, air and breath. I recently visited Aubrey’s website and was drawn to her most recent series, Red Herring. This series of photographs is distinctly different than previous works which caught me off guard. It then dawned on me that I am drawn to this series because it offers almost exactly the opposite experience of her previous work. These […]
And We Are In Love – B. Kari Moore
Tuesday, May 8, 2012 13:30 — 0 Comments
I Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â The two had been married for a while now, living together even longer. There was a rhythm they were used to.
The answer isn't poetry, but rather language
- Richard Kenney
