Contributors

Nathaniel Tarn

Contributor History

North Rim, Conjunctions:2
Flight from the Mountaintop, Conjunctions:3
Thirteen Poems, Conjunctions:4
Four Poems, Conjunctions:5
Dr. Jekyll, the Anthropologist Emerges and Marches into the Notebook of Mr. Hyde, the Poet, Conjunctions:6
From The Book of Songs, Conjunctions:7
Three Poems, Conjunctions:9
on Popol Vuh, Conjunctions:9
Protoavia: Narrative of the Pilots, Conjunctions:10
Two Poems, Conjunctions:11
on Peter Brazeau, Conjunctions:11
Home, Conjunctions:13
Italian Sequence Comma With Italian Words Stop One Stop, Conjunctions:15
Bartok in Udaipur, Conjunctions:17
Red Banner’s Whereabouts, Conjunctions:20
Meditaton: First and Last Trek, Zangskar, Conjunctions:22
Six Poems, Conjunctions:23
Burial Plot, Conjunctions:28
Body In Glory, Conjunctions:30
Two Poems, Conjunctions:35
Ascending Flight, Los Angeles, Conjunctions:49
From The Hölderliniae, Online 03-03-2021

Biography

Nathaniel Tarn is a Franco-Anglo-American poet, critic, translator, and editor, with some 35 publications. He is also a cultural anthropologist, specializing in religious systems (Guatemala, Burma, et cetera). He has traveled extensively in every continent but has, since 1984, resided in the desert north west of Santa Fe, New Mexico, with his wife, poet and printer Janet Rodney.

Connect

In Print

Conjunctions:76

Fortieth Anniversary Issue

Spring 2021
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

Six Poems

by Jed Munson

October 20, 2021

Launch

codes, we stripped species,
            our insecure
hands of gloves
to crack the test           to our capitalizable
future. Pray
            for the multiverse I’m working on
at midnight.

Five Poems

by Emma De Lisle

October 13, 2021

Forgive us. We were waiting
here, in the thickening ice. We worked a long time. Now
we try to give what we found, a little basket
hiding behind each back, full of the young shoots.
They are so green. Mercifully green. We say so. Yes,
they are alive, we say. We, too. We are still sick.

The Jackal

by Joy Baglio

October 6, 2021

Friday night, and you have done the unthinkable. You’ve taken your father’s Jackal Ghost bowling ball from its locked hard-shell case under your mother’s bed—the ball that looks like a purple and black version of the earth, a jackal’s head rising from the swirls—and gone to meet Teddy and Zeke and Evan and Marya, most importantly Marya, for a night of bowling, the game your dead father was obsessed with: the game that, according to your mother, ruins people.