America Is Not the World – an international collection of poetry and short fiction from Pankhearst is now available via Amazon. You can purchase the collection here.
Other writers and editors have praised this anthology:
SHINJINI BHATTACHARJEE, poet and Editor of Hermeneutic Chaos and Press:
The landscape of America Is Not the World enacts important historical and cultural intersections through a vivid mélange of symbolic and imagistic riches that are unsparingly true. The collection reconstructs our perception of America through poems and stories that fold maps and question binaries by narrating the lives of our complex, often troubled worlds that do not harbor easy answers. But, at the same time, it also offers the splendid possibility of a human culture that dissolves the glistening weight of its wounds together. This is an anthology that hums and crackles with a formidable urgency that is rare, intimate, poignant and necessary, assembling languages that our identities won’t reveal. Prepare to emerge from it transformed.
SADE ANDRIA ZABALA, columnist for Art-Parasites and author of WAR SONGS and Coffee and Cigarettes:
“Nothing feels like loss anymore,” says a powerful Pakistani poem by one of the many international writers in America Is Not The World. This book is raw, diverse, and impassioned, and comes at a time when the entire world needs it, even when many prefer to remain deaf to the truth. Pankhearst’s new collection is not another scream into the void – it is a wake-up call. Everyone ought to hear the alarm.
DONNA-MARIE RILEY, author of Love and Other Small Wars:
These are the voices we need – voices that break the monotony. This collection is wonderful and heart-wrenching in equal measure. Wonderful because these voices are so incredibly articulate and individual and necessary. Heart-wrenching because I am so sorry for the things they have to say. I am amazed and humbled by the tenderness of these poems. They throb while you’re reading them and echo long after you’ve finished. A collection that sings.
I’m so pleased to share this anthology with everyone. It’s been months and months of work and an endeavor that has humbled me both as a poet and an editor. The contributors of this anthology have shared brave and poignant work that deserves to be read.
This book will stir your empathy.
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The screen door
off her guard;
has no ghosts.
She eyes him
he’ll haunt her.
Originally published at Rust + Moth – Spring 2016
I’m a lower-middle-class American, but I breached the middle class. I’m behind on my bills and I usually can’t afford to add guacamole to my dinner, but I have what I need. I had a decent enough high school education and earned myself small scholarships to get me through two years of college, with additional help from financial aid, because I was poor.
I worked full-time while going to college full-time, to enter adulthood where I then worked two jobs amounting to nearly 60 hours a week for five or so years, so I would not be poor. It’s very hard in this country to not be poor.
I was lucky. Not everyone has had the same breaks as me, not that I’ve had it easy. But I was able to find work and take care of myself. Jobs aren’t always available to everyone who looks for one. I had to settle and work jobs I had no interest in, but still…I had work.
We, the lower and middle class citizens, support those above us, which does not make sense. It also keeps us from advancing. The top one-tenth percent own about as much wealth as the bottom 90 percent. Why are we responsible for keeping them afloat, when we’re largely ignored or ridiculed by them for our positions in society? Contrary to what some believe, not everyone on government assistance is a bum; they’re often forced to get assistance because they were forced out of what they had or could have had by a rigged system.
Last night I attended the Bernie Sanders rally in Birmingham, Alabama. I went to support a candidate who is tired of the haves taking advantage of the have-nots. He spoke and we listened. I drove home with my palms tingling; they felt raw against my steering wheel – from clapping. I couldn’t sleep last night. His words were bouncing around in my head and I suddenly felt more pride in being American than I ever have. We’re part of a political revolution; we’re part of a historic time in this country – a time in which one man is gradually convincing more and more of us that this is our country, that we have a say. He’s asking us to join him in this revolution. I’m in.
Be part of history.
Take back your country.
The old dog sits close;
thunderstorms and nostalgia
have us held up
in the back of the house—
each seeking shelter
from our own fears.
Originally published at Gnarled Oak – Issue 5; November 6, 2015
in your pocket,
where your mind is.
Clutch it with free hands;
grip the emptiness
the way children do
when they’re hungry
and tell me again
how my soul is lost.
Originally published at By&By Poetry – October 2015