Contributors

Gillian Conoley

Contributor History

Three Poems, Conjunctions:42
Begins, Conjunctions:57
Peace Poems, Conjunctions:60
Impersonal Affairs, Conjunctions:61
Preparing One’s Consciousness for the Avatar, Conjunctions:62
The Right to Be Forgotten , Online 07-07-2015
In the Next Night, Conjunctions:72
In the Next Night — A Selected Text from Conjunctions:72, Nocturnals, Online 05-16-2019
Borderlands, Online 09-17-2019
Three Poems, Conjunctions:75

Biography

Photo © Domenic Stansberry

Gillian Conoley’s A Little More Red Sun on the Human: New and Selected Poems (Nightboat Books, 2019) won the Northern California Book Award. She received the 2017 Shelley Memorial Award for lifetime achievement from the Poetry Society of America. Conoley is poet-in-residence at Sonoma State University, where she edits Volt. Her translation of three books by Henri Michaux, Thousand Times Broken (City Lights), excerpts from which were first published in Conjunctions:61, A Menagerie, was one of Publisher’s Weekly’s top-ten fall 2014 poetry releases.

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In Print

Conjunctions:80

Ways of Water

Spring 2023
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

Zoop

by Jess Arndt

May 31, 2023

Ice worms first start communing with me in Forlandsundet, a miles-deep sound north of the Greenland Sea. I don’t speak Norwegian, but I can parse: For. Land. Sun. It’s completely black outside. Det means “that or it.” Det, that’s easy, I’ve been one all my life.

The KV Svalbard is an icebreaker. From the foredeck, the rocky screes sweeping west are the planet’s emptiest place. No one between us and the North Pole.

“Det,” I hear, “Oi Det.” I can’t locate the strange, oblong voice, more of a nose whistle. Near me? but not inside me. I soon give up.

Rainmaking

by Lindsey Drager

May 24, 2023

Of course the book she writes—the lesser book, the book about nothing—becomes a popular text, one that readers adore. When they ask her what she will write next, she says she is going to write the book over. Over? they ask her.
Again, she says. She isn’t really a writer, she tells them, she’s a transcriber. She transcribes stories.
Across languages? they ask.
No, she says. That would be translation. I used to do that but stopped, she says. Now I transcribe. I take texts and transcribe them into another version of the same language.
So you rewrite, they say.
No, she says. You’ll see.

The Wave Readers

by Kristin Posehn

May 18, 2023

For thousands of years, the peoples of the Marshall Islands have entertained a bustling interisland travel by canoe and small sailing craft without any of the tools—compass, sextant, nautical charts, and, these days, GPS—on which the rest of the world has depended. Within a purely oral tradition, Marshallese navigators developed a highly refined system of voyaging, relying entirely on their senses to decipher the subtlest of codes in the aqueous environment. Theirs has always been a world of waves.