Rebirth of Tradition: Placing Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl” in Conversation with Ornette Coleman’s The Shape of Jazz to Come

By Addie Lamb Our heads are round so thought can change the direction. Allan Ginsberg “Holy the groaning saxophone! Holy the bop apocalypse! Holy the jazz bands marijuana hipsters peace & junk & drums!” -Ginsberg, Footnote to “Howl”, 21               The language of sound knows no rules. Insipid rigidity within poetics was thrown into dissolution…

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On Grief and Where the Words Go

By Lana Haffar Odin’s ears never stood up like a German Shepherd’s should. His cartilage was weak, so they sprawled from either side of his head, like wings. The force of every heartbeat made them flutter. He bounded everywhere, tongue lolling, paws spread to cushion the impact. On a November Wednesday, I turned twenty years…

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