Dear reader,
The fact is we are loath to let go of our rituals. We have all had to adjust expectations and routine these last weeks, and we have all read “in these uncertain times” and maintained our wary distances, but, even though many of us were dissatisfied with what once passed for “normal,” still we can acknowledge there were (small, perhaps, cold, though also instead quite substantial) comforts in knowing something about tomorrow and the day after.
One part of our annual routine here at The Rupture has been to celebrate National Poetry Month with an expanded poetry section, and I am as pleased as I can be that, while so many other things are delayed and then delayed again, this one at least will appear as scheduled. I am pleased not simply because this one thing can go forward as if the situation were otherwise; no, I am pleased because the work in this issue is very much worth celebrating, and now it is out in the world to be read.
It goes without saying that, while the work in this issue was selected before the scope of this pandemic became clear—indeed, before it was a pandemic—the world of our recent past was also fraught. (Anyway, literature is news that stays news, isn’t it?) And so there is in this issue the cruelty and countervailing care of our current conditions. There is bravery, but there is also fear. There are rituals, some of them unsavory. Reader, there are hints of spring. There is the sea. There are emptinesses and erasures and births and triumphs and regrets and Blindgänger. There are, somehow, forgivenesses, new beginnings. Things may not go on as before, but they go on.
Speaking of which, some news: Our next issue, Issue 109, was scheduled to come out June 15, but, because of the pandemic and its ripple effect on on all of our schedules, publication of the full contents of that issue will be delayed. Still, stay tuned: We’ll publish selected pieces from that issue here on the site starting on June 15 and, trust me, you won’t want to miss them. You can stay up-to-date with us over on Twitter (@TheRuptureMag) if you’re so inclined.
In the meantime, thanks so much for visiting! Please stay safe and healthy.
Sincerely,
Gabriel Blackwell