News and Events

See all News and Events

A Conjunctions Reading by Amy England & A. D. Jameson
The fourth reading in the Cities Series, presented by Conjunctions and the Bard Office of Alumni/ae Affairs, takes place at Myopic Books in Chicago
Saturday, August 26, 2017
7:00 pm EDT/GMT-4
Myopic Books, 1564 N. Milwaukee Ave., Wicker Park, Chicago

 
On Saturday, August 26, at 7:00 p.m., Myopic Books celebrates the literary journal Conjunctions with a reading by contributors Amy England and A. D. Jameson at 1564 North Milwaukee Avenue. Copies of Conjunctions:68, Inside Out: Architectures of Experience will be available for sale. The event is free and open to the public; seating is first-come / first-served. RSVP on Facebook.

The literary journal Conjunctions, edited by novelist Bradford Morrow and published by Bard College, has been a living notebook for provocative, innovative, immaculately crafted fiction, poetry, and narrative nonfiction since 1981. As Karen Russell has said, “Conjunctions is a translation into a multiverse of stories and poems and essays and even weirder hybrid forms, the mutant menagerie of literary fiction. I read it with Christmas pleasure.” Rick Moody agrees: “Without a doubt, Conjunctions is the best literary magazine in America.”

Located in the heart of Wicker Park, Myopic Books has been voted Chicago’s favorite and best used bookstore by Chicago Magazine, Chicago Reader, and Concierge Preferred. With music and poetry series, over seventy thousand books, and incredible staff recommendations, it's long been at the heart of the Chicago’s independent literary community. Myopic’s thriving Saturday poetry reading series, curated by poet and milkmag.org editor Larry Sawyer since 2004, has recently featured authors such as Eileen Myles, Ron Silliman, Bernadette Mayer, and Tim Kinsella.

Note that this event’s second-floor venue may not be accessible to those with mobility impairments. If you wish to attend but are restricted from doing so by the stair access, please let us know at [email protected].
 
ABOUT THE READERS

AMY ENGLAND is the author of The Flute Ship Castricum, Victory and Her Opposites: A Guide (both Tupelo), and the book of collages For the Reckless Sleeper (American Letters and Commentary). Her work has appeared in numerous journals, including Conjunctions’ online edition, and her anthology publications include Robert Hass’s 2001 edition of Best American Poetry. She is the editor of the poetry chapbook publisher Transparent Tiger Press, and teaches poetics, surrealism, and writing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
 
“Place and motion, place in motion, and the place of motion in our lives—Amy England’s work grapples with these issues, and through them, with the issue of presence. These poems are the present, and the reader becomes more present within them. Whether it’s Japan or Chicago, the white rooms of an empty house or the empty walls of a monastery, a vivid magical-realist sense of possibility laces these evocative locations together—swiftly— England’s work is a new form of traveling.” —Cole Swensen

 
***

 
A. D. JAMESON is the author of five books, including Cinemaps, a collaboration with artist Andrew DeGraff, forthcoming in late October 2017 from Quirk Books, as well as a critical book on geek culture, forthcoming in 2018 from FSG. He’s currently a PhD candidate at the University of Illinois in Chicago, where he teaches writing and film studies, and is finishing his dissertation, a collection of five hundred short fantasy, horror, and science-fiction stories. His writing has appeared in Conjunctions:57, Kin and elsewhere.

“A. D. Jameson is a pretty much a monster when it comes to corrupting familiar characters, folding, spindling and mutilating existing forms, and generally bankrupting your appreciation of traditional narrative.”  —H_NGM_N
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Contact: Micaela Morrissette, [email protected], 845-758-7054

Connect

e-mail
Submissions

In Print

Vol. 79
Onword
Fall 2022
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

November 23, 2022
I SAW ALL THE STRANGENESS IMMEDIATELY,

I saw it in this very particular slide of swell’s,
the sylphspun silk of the sylph, she sideways,
her garage is paradise in masque, her sweep
is saturn, szturn im sturm & string, install’d
in the area’s traverse. he follows that lucky
old sun, the gesture of her lining and loose
knot, and pulls herself through burns and a
dry wash and some soft lead. in discorporate
minerals, or in the sharing of the black sleek
sharing with the wild man in her soft shoes,
all over the panes of the various sworld and
out into the superhighway of bywater, hard
by marigny. to flow through one to another
indetermination, the posture of their brush
must be immaculate fray, all them, all they.
November 16, 2022
Day Book

One wants to grasp a latch.
The broken star, the cellophane.
One suffers if untethered from
the pain that brought a lock.
Across the way the husband tends his teeth.
The wife redresses, parted from her paper.
To emblemize, to separate the word
grief reaches. Grief reaches, unseduced.
November 9, 2022
He had thought for a while of having his ashes placed on a ship propelled out to sea while being set aflame with burning arrows—in his dotage, my father grew obsessed with Norse myth—but in today’s regulatory environment, bringing him here was the closest feasible compromise. “The best moment is when Fenris the giant wolf appears,” he’d told me on Zoom, his voice trembling only slightly. “It draws everyone’s attention, so nobody will be watching you. Do you remember how you used to cry when we got to the wolf?” This sounds more like something Ulf would do, although Ulf doesn’t remember coming here either. Most likely it was a lost intention of my father’s. He might have spent a day talking to strangers in a bar about planning a trip here, an imagined bout of quality time so vivid it became real for him in retrospect. Towards the end, the winter and the lockdown getting to him, my father was drinking forty ounces of vodka a day. I may not have been his favorite son, but I was the one who agreed to scatter his ashes here once, and if, the park reopened after COVID. Ulf would never violate theme park rules.
advertisement