Posts Categorized: Online Feature

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2015-2016 Indiana Review Online Features

Indiana Review Online Features

Marie-Helene Bertino . . . . . . Sometimes You Break Their Hearts, Sometimes They Break Yours
Elise Burke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sorry For Crashing Your Party and Possibly Killing Your Horse
Catherine Carberry . . . . . . . . Campfire Sing-Alongs for Opposite Orphans
Julie Hensley . . . . . . . . . . . . . Seeing Red
Joseph Kim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Superstar
Matt Sadler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Blue Christmas

Hannah Gamble . . . . . . . . . . In a Time of War
Keetje Kuipers . . . . . . . . . . . Some Advice for Both of Us
Rebecca Lehmann . . . . . . . . Bucolic Calling
Jamaal May . . . . . . . . . . . . . Athazagoraphobia (Fear of Being Ignored)
Aimee Nezhukumatathil . . . When All of My Cousins Are Married
Richard Siken . . . . . . . . . . . . Three Proofs

Kate Birch . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . One More Artificial Organ
Jackson Blair . . . . . . . . . . . . . Glacier
Judith Hertog . . . . . . . . . . . . Matzevah
Jacob Newberry . . . . . . . . . . The Night Is Filled With Orchards, Every Night
Kathleen Rooney. . . . . . . . . . An Open Letter to World War I Soldier Alexander Bradley Burns of Downers Grove, Illinois on the Occasion of My Father’s Retirement After Six Years in the United States Air Force Reserves, plus Twenty More in the U.S. Army Reserves

Graphic Memoir
Alexander Rothman . . . . . . . What Is Comics Poetry?


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Online Feature: “Glacier” by Jackson Blair


The way through the world is more difficult to find than the way beyond it.

—Wallace Stevens

My office is configured in such a way that I’m blind to coworkers who appear at my door. Each day I sit like a parked car in a cul-de-sac, my backside positioned toward visitors, a situation that forces me to discriminate between the surprisingly varied sounds they make. Thus, I’ve come to recognize knockers by their knocks, foot-draggers by the scuff of their feet, and in one case, a person by a quick intake of breath, followed by a long pause, as with a case of apnea. Read more…

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Online Feature: “Campfire Sing-Alongs for Opposite Orphans” by Catherine Carberry


At night, the camp was illuminated. We slept during the day to avoid dreams of our parents killing us again, and in the hours before sunrise we laced our boots, packed jerky and marshmallows, and hiked the candle-lined trails that snaked behind our cabins. As junior counselor, I led the nocturnal hikes through the forest. Before my mother accidentally shot me, I had been camping only once, on an overnight Girl Scouts retreat. But after months at the Accidental camp, I could build fires, patch torn tents, and hike the intricate trails without a compass. Sometimes I led the campers in sing-alongs I remembered, and sometimes we were silent. Tonight, our only sounds were soft footsteps on the pine needle floor.

Read more…

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Online Feature: “Some Advice for Both of Us” by Keetje Kuipers


Just once, let the glossy body lie in its own
tangled grasses. Admit the doors uncoupled
from their latches to allow us through were ones
we shouldered open. This is not the way—

forcing fruit to sugar in our hands. When our mothers
told us to love, they meant that we should wear
warm socks to bed. Look at their beds. If the garden

is not a garden, and if its tiny lamps illuminate only
their own darknesses, we must hold ourselves inside
forever. This is what oceans are for. This is why 2am.
Because now that touch is less of a medicine—less touch.

This poem appeared in Indiana Review 35.1, Winter 2013.


30_DSC5432Keetje Kuipers has been the Margery Davis Boyden Wilderness Writing Resident, a Stegner Fellow at Stanford, and the Emerging Writer Lecturer at Gettysburg College. A recipient of the Pushcart Prize, her poems, essays, and fiction have appeared in numerous magazines and anthologies, including Best American Poetry. Her first book of poetry, Beautiful in the Mouth, won the 2009 A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize and was published by BOA Editions. Her second collection, The Keys to the Jail, was published by BOA in 2014. Keetje is an Assistant Professor at Auburn University where she is Editor of Southern Humanities Review.

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Online Feature: “Matzevah” by Judith Hertog


I laughed a lot at my father’s funeral. The evening before the ceremony, I stayed up late with my mother and our friends Bart and Ruth, trying to compose an appropriate eulogy. My little sisters, who had just turned eleven, had fallen asleep on the couch. When we tried out the speeches we came up with, they sounded so pathetically silly – “Thank you all for coming, Mike regrets not being able to be here himself…” “Mike has led a full and satisfying life…” “Every life must end, and so did Mike’s…” – that we couldn’t recite them without being overcome by giggles. The funeral itself felt like an absurdist play. The procession from the funeral hall to the grave took so long and was so abruptly twisty that I thought the master of ceremonies had lost his way. As we slowly proceeded along the winding gravel paths between the neat rows of graves, passing through somber islands of conifer trees and along stone walls that sheltered the dead from the hustle of Amsterdam, I imagined the master of ceremonies’ rising panic at the realization that he didn’t remember the location of the grave and was leading the dead man and the solemn line of mourners in a haphazard walk through forgotten corners of the cemetery. Read more…