Mary McMyne lives and writes in Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan. Her poetry is forthcoming in the Los Angeles Review and has recently appeared in a number of other journals, including Pedestal Magazine, Phantom Drift: A Journal of New Fabulism, Prime Number Magazine,and New Delta Review. She won the Faulkner Prize for a Novel-in-Progress for her project retelling the Odysseus myth […]
Mary McMyne
Mary McMyne: Heyghoge
Blind, he wandered about in the forest, eating nothing but grass and roots, and doing nothing but weeping and wailing over the loss of his beloved wife. — from “Rapunzel” by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (1857, tr. Ashliman) Into the thorns you fell, a poor thing, to become blind eater of grass and […]
Mary McMyne: Irène Joliot-Curie
As a girl I learned the elements. With a pencil my mother Marie sketched the shapes of compounds: the honeycomb of water, the zigzag of sugar, the gridiron of salt. This is the way it is, she said. Everything has its own form. I believed her until the day I saw the woman in the […]
Mary McMyne: The Butterfly Dome
Grand Isle, Louisiana On the way to the Butterfly Dome, leaves leapt from the trees. A black truck weaved across the highway, its bumper stuck with eight letters in gold: R.I.P. STEVE. My daughter cried. My son tickled her toes. Hush, he said. We’re almost there, almost. Inside the dome, butterflies twitched their […]