Contributors

Daniel Coudriet
Contributor History

Biography
Daniel Coudriet
Daniel Coudriet lives with his wife and son in Richmond, Virginia, and in Carcarañá, Argentina. He is the author of Say Sand (Carnegie Mellon) and a chapbook, Parade (Blue Hour Press), which can be read here. His translation of Argentinean poet Lila Zemborains Rasgado was awarded an NEA Fellowship, and his poems and translations have appeared in Colorado Review, Denver Quarterly, Green Mountains Review, jubilat, Oversound, Prelude, Transom, and elsewhere.

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In Print

Vol. 73
Earth Elegies
Fall 2019
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

March 31, 2020
in the pharmacy of the child
one used a hopscotch stone
a jacket zipper one’s tongue
the sharper tongue of a friend
anything to get one’s soft skin back
March 17, 2020
1.

Because he could picture himself curled up on the shelf of the refrigerator between the bread and the light.

2.

Because he stared up at the sprinkler attachment and thought of it as a metal flower.
March 10, 2020
Mears takes your name. As soon as you say it, he speaks it in quick echo, and it is now his and no longer yours. We don’t know what he does with it or what it does for him, but we do know what happens to those he pilfers.