The gargoyles are gathering around the edges of the frame, hatching their schemes for a previously unimaginable seizure of power. What seemed, only two short, liberating weeks ago, to be the end of the story, was instead the opening of yet another chapter in this squalid, cynical saga.
Jon Curley, in this weekend’s issue, calls poet Kent Johnson “not a bleeding heart but a brooding heart, a blaring heart, a red heart, the circulating red of a replenishing radicalism.” We’re going to need plenty of replenishment in the days to come.
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— Thomas Micchelli, Co-Editor, Hyperallergic Weekend
