TYGER QUARTERLY
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Issue 1: Spring 2022

  1. Serena Solin
  2. Toby Altman  
  3. S. Brook Corfman
  4. Katana Smith
  5. Natalee Cruz
  6. Emma Wilson
  7. Ashley Colley
  8. Colin Criss 
  9. Jack Chelgren
  10. Stefania Gomez 

Issue 2: Summer 2022
  1. Matthew Klane
  2. Ryan Nhu
  3. TR Brady
  4. Alana Solin
  5. K. Iver
  6. Emily Barton Altman
  7. William Youngblood
  8. Alex Wells Shapiro  
  9. Sasha Wiseman
  10. Yunkyo Moon-Kim


Issue 3: Fall 2022
  1. Sun Yung Shin
  2. Rosie Stockton
  3. Adele Elise Williams & Henry Goldkamp
  4. Noa Micaela Fields
  5. Miriam Moore-Keish
  6. Fred Schmalz
  7. Katy Hargett-Hsu
  8. Alicia Mountain
  9. Austin Miles
  10. Carlota Gamboa

  Birthday Presents
       for William Blake

    Five Words for William Blake
        on His 265th Birthday
            (after Jack Spicer)
 


Issue 4: Winter 2023

  1. MICHAEL CHANG 
  2. Daniel Borzutzky
  3. Alicia Wright
  4. Asha Futterman
  5. Ellen Boyette
  6. S Cearley
  7. Sebastián Páramo
  8. Abbey Frederick
  9. Caylin Capra-Thomas
  10. maryhope|whitehead|lee & Ryan Greene


Issue 5: Spring 2023

  1. Jose-Luis Moctezuma 
  2. Peter Leight
  3. Rachel Galvin
  4. Sophia Terazawa
  5. Katherine Gibbel
  6. Lloyd Wallace
  7. Timothy Ashley Leo
  8. Jessica Laser
  9. Kira Tucker
  10. Michael Martin Shea


Issue 6: Summer 2023

An Introduction to Tyger Quarterly’s The Neo-Surrealist Interview Series

1. Mary Jo Bang 
2. Marty Cain 
3. Dorothy Chan 
4. Aditi Machado 
5. Alicia Mountain
6. Serena Solin
7. Marty Riker 
8. Francesca Kritikos
9. Luther Hughes
10. Toby Altman

Bonus: William Blake Tells All


Issue 7: Fall 2023 


1. Dennis James Sweeney 
2. M. Cynthia Cheung
3. Nathaniel Rosenthalis
4. Reuben Gelley Newman
5. James Kelly Quigley 
6. Christine Kwon
7. Maxwell Rabb
8. Maura Pellettieri 
9. Patty Nash 
10. Alyssa Moore


Issue 8: Winter 2024
1. Julian Talamantez Brolaski
2. Elizabeth Marie Young
3. Michael Gardner 
4. Steffan Triplett 
5. Margaret Yapp
6. Chelsea Tadeyeske
7. June Wilson 
8. Dawn Angelicca Barcelona
9. Evan Williams 
10. Brendan Sherry 


Issue 9 + 10: Spring/Summer 2024
1. Emily Pittinos 
2. Lisa Low 
3. Binx Perino 
4. Kai Ihns
5. Alex Tretbar 
6. Joanie Cappetta 
7. Mike Bagwell
8. Kelly Clare
9. Antonio Vargas-Nieto 
10. Olivia Sio Tse 

//

11. Jackson Watson
12. Myka Kielbon
13. Henie Zhang
14. David Brennan
15. Ann Pedone
16. Maddy Chrisman-Miller
17. Ronnie Sirmans
18. Evan Goldstein
19. Anne Marie Rooney
20. Cameron Lovejoy


Issue 11: Fall 2024

Laocoön, at the top reads “Where any view of Money exists Art cannot be carried on but War only.” In this spirit of Blake, rather than putting out a new issue of poetry, the Tygers of Tyger Quarterly have put together links to writing, and other medias, that have figured as meaningful reading, writing, listening as we continue the fight to end Israel’s ongoing genocide in Palestine.

1. My Palestinian Poem that “The New Yorker” Wouldn’t Publish by Fady Joudah (from LARB)
2. No Human Being Can Exist + No Human Being Can Exist by Saree Makdisi (from N+1)
3. Under the Jumbotron + William Blake’s ‘Laocoön’: Why this poet’s engraving reads like a protest poster” by Anahid Nersessian (from LRB + The Yale Review) 
4. On Israel and Lebanon: A Response to Adrienne Rich from One Black Woman by June Jordan (from New York War Crimes)
5. Genocide Leaves No Illusions in Tact by Yasmeen Daher (from Verso)
6. Can You Tell Us Why This Is Happening: Testimonies from Gaza (from N+1)
7. Landing: Skateboarding in Palestine by Maen Hammad (Bonus Documentary: Epicly Palestined: The Birth of Skateboarding in the West Bank) (from N+1 + SkatePal)
8. Palestine is Everywhere, and It Is Making Us More Free: More Letters from The Apocalypse by George Abraham and Sarah Aziza (from The Nation)
9. Liberation Pedagogy at the People’s University for Gaza by Amir Marshi (from MQR)
10. “We,” A Poem for Palestine by Ghayath Almadhoun (from Outlook India) 
11. Resources Towards a Free Palestine (from Mizna)
12. Crimes Against Language: The Moral Truth of Israel’s War Against Gaza is not Difficult to Grasp by Sarah Aziza (from The Baffler)
13. Israelism: The Awakening of Young American Jews dir.  Erin Axelman and Sam Eilertsen
14. [excerpt from Palestine (+100)] Editor’s Introduction by Basma Ghalayini +  “The Curse of the Mud Ball Kid” by Mazen Maarouf (translated by Jonathan Wright)
15. If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer (from In These Times)



Email: tyger quarterly @ gmail dot com 



©2022 TQ



Jackson Watson
















WAIL SEQUENCE [1-4]
with Simone Weil








[open on the plains. Enter Simone Wail, an animal-woman with little round glasses]




1.



Just now by the river I met God’s strangest creation. It seemed to me that she was             floating in
or bolted to the divine. I said to her

                            My name’s Simone and once I was human too

and asked         What happened to you

she said             God shot through me like a bullet
                             and left a heifer shaped hole

I told her             There is a time for every human
                             beyond which his soul is not a virgin,
                             but when it happens he has to consent

I asked                Did you consent

she said              I was pinned. Immobile
                             my soul was fixed to the center
                             of all that’s made, stars
                             in my eyes from the pain

And she paused and she looked in the water.

she said             This river is my father
                            He is troubled, muddy, wondering
                            where on earth his daughter’s gone—

And she let out one cow sob.
She drank from him then and ate the grass round his banks,
kissed the dirt where it grew, the dirt where she grew too.




[remains]




2.



While she ate and drank I told my tale.

I said         I was a philosopher or mystic afflicted
                   by affliction. I labored and I prayed
                   at a clanking press, hands bent
                   in attempts to understand the clamps
                   of factory work. I wanted to be for God
                   what a pencil is for me
                   when I feel its point pressed hard and blind
                   against a child’s writing table, graphite scratching
                   into shadow. God’s fist quickened
                   its grip on me & then
                   I was not I nor in my body
                   I was here by this mythic river
                   more beefy than I’d ever been
                   with half my badsoul burnt and blackened,
                   clean
                   charred off. My ‘I’ disappeared entirely
                   to make a space for meat and god.




[remains]




3.



She was still drinking when I finished. Where her father flowed
she followed, and I followed too.

I told her          It is an honor to be afflicted
                          consensually by God. And if
                          you’re ready for it, divinity’s volcanic brand
                          can sear God’s name on your soul—
                          nowadays you say what... nom,
                          nomen, onoma? The hollow
                          scar is always his symbol

she said          No—no—it’s not a name
                         Dysphoria’s the god
                         in the body, unbearable
                         in my flesh—beside myself
                         my thoughts all wander
                         rattle and drag nomadic
                         they hang around me like a cloud
                         of flies—and each thought bites
                         that body of mine

Distraught she sped her pace up and then she stopped
by a little pool, a place where her father paused
to make a mirrorlike surface. She looked and saw her face
and from it two huge horns, and she hurled
her lunch and her father’s water, she hurled
herself and fled herself and wanted I saw
to hurt herself her self
demolished by shock—




[remains]




4.



I followed her still while she fled.

I said                 God made a being which says I
                           and cannot possibly love him. Grace
                           erases this being, rubbing
                           the I away with the other end
                           of his pencil, to make a hole,
                           a little O
                           God enters the emptied being
                           This—listen!—this is what I’ve christened
                           “decreation”—stop fleeing!

But she didn’t want to listen.
I felt I had missed something.
What had happened to the girl?

she said            I felt
                           he was thunder and I
                           a monarch’s butterfly, his nails
                           iron through my wings

She cried. Tears of shame dripped down her snout and
I handed her a pamphlet about God’s love. In the dust
she trampled it, and then silence. In the dust
she hooved an I. Beside it she wrote o.

I thought I ought leave her alone.




[exit Simone Wail]







Biographical Statement



Jackson Watson is a writer from Georgia. They live in Providence now.