There is a hope to poetry. There is a hope that arises in poetry, arises as each word in the poem becomes active anew. Something other than habit occurs in the poem. While in everyday life language can become subservient to utility, can be spoken thoughtlessly, said in inattention—the poem asks us to attend to language, to let language amaze. The word does not follow its routine. And as the word does not follow its routine, in the poem, we readers are thrown from our own routines and follow the venturing word, listening to how, this time, it sings, listening to now, uniquely now, it speaks of the world.
The poem opens to possibility. It opens to a possibility greater than the brief flash of linguistic novelty. Language shapes our encounter with the world. By breaking the old habits of language, by seeing language reborn, the poem opens us linguistic creatures to the possibility of new relationships with the world.
The poetry of this issue of Interim delivers on the hope that is a hallmark of poetry, even the poetry of despair. This issue especially highlights selections from the finalist manuscripts of our sixth annual book contest, including two winning manuscripts: The Test Site Poetry Series Winner, The Long Now Conditions Permit by Jami Macarty, and the Betsy Joiner Flanagan Award winner, A Grain of Sand in Lambeth by Geoffrey Babbitt.
--Andrew S. Nicholson, Associate Editor