Leah Falk was raised in Pittsburgh and lives in Philadelphia. Her poems and essays have appeared or are forthcoming in Kenyon Review, Blackbird, FIELD, The Awl, and elsewhere. Also a librettist, she most recently collaborated on the song cycle Book of Questions with composer Joshua Morris. She runs programming for the Writers House at Rutgers […]
Leah Falk
Leah Falk: Commonest in Nature
Sara Turing You said: I always seem to want to make things from the thing that’s commonest in nature. Then, out of air, you made a machine. What commonness you’d find if you were here – what shapes and colors would repeat, and at what wild, silent rhythms. Come back, I want the worlds you […]
Leah Falk: Visiting
When her only boy first felt his throat crowd, she thought of her father’s boyhood fever which washed over his heart like an ocean over sand. Sand: maybe a window once, in a house the ocean also claimed. Which is to say the body is for some a kind of furniture: in hard times hauled […]
Leah Falk: Islands
Brooklyn, July 2014 We cycle toward the Verrazano Narrows through a strand of sabbath islands. Teenage girls in black skirts go visiting like their mothers. Fridays, sirens sing at dusk, reminding us to divide our bodies from the calendar. Yesterday we woke to video of a man gasping his last rites. Machado at a friend’s […]
Leah Falk: Commonest in Nature
Sara Turing You said: I always seem to want to make things from the thing that’s commonest in nature. Then, out of air, you made a machine. What commonness you’d find if you were here – what shapes and colors would repeat, and at what wild, silent rhythms. Come back, I want the worlds you […]
Leah Falk: Visiting
When her only boy first felt his throat crowd, she thought of her father’s boyhood fever which washed over his heart like an ocean over sand. Sand: maybe a window once, in a house the ocean also claimed. Which is to say the body is for some a kind of furniture: in hard times hauled […]