My favorite moment when visiting any art museum is leaving it.

While I’d claim to enjoy viewing art, two to three hours strolling through most collections can give me museum fatigue. Stepping out on the street, however, I gawk astonished on the colors, forms, and composition of everyday objects. Traffic light, mini-skirt, trash can, movie poster, hubcap, a wad of gum: suddenly the world’s transformed, exposed. I feel like the kid with X-ray specs from the ad at the back of comic books. The luster and lineaments of ordinary artifacts take on giddy energy as if the hand of an estranging god were shaping a terrible beauty before my eyes. More… “On the Edge of Art and the Everyday”

Will Cordeiro has work in various genres appearing or forthcoming in over 100 publications, including Best New Poets, Blue Earth Review, Copper Nickel, Crab Orchard Review, DIAGRAM, Fourteen Hills, Nashville Review, National Poetry Review, New Walk, [PANK], Phoebe, Poetry Northwest, Territory, and Zone 3. He is grateful for a grant from the Arizona Commission on the Arts, a scholarship from Sewanee Writers’ Conference, and a Truman Capote Writer’s Fellowship, as well as residencies from ART 342, Blue Mountain Center, Ora Lerman Trust, Petrified Forest National Park, and Risley Residential College. He received his MFA and Ph.D. from Cornell University. He lives in Flagstaff, where he is the faculty in residence and teaches in the Honors College at Northern Arizona University.


I had initially intended to visit the National Museum that abuts Tiananmen Square, but someone informed me that it might be closed. When I spoke to the concierge in my hotel, he suggested the Capital Museum, which had apparently opened in its present location in May 2006, and so, being relatively new, was not as well-known.


Let me digress for a moment and note that the title “concierge” was an incongruous one for this hardly post-pubescent youth, obviously a recent arrival to the big city from the countryside. All the workers in the hotel, which was located in the north of Beijing away from the tourist areas, were startlingly young and lacking in English skills, which, since I am even more lacking in Chinese ones, made communication difficult. Questions such as, “Can you do something about the strange… More…

I’m living with my mom, and like a lot of roommates, we spend most of the time we’re in rooms together wondering out loud if the other one is not completely incompetent. Sometimes we help each other find our missing keys in the morning, but even then we prefer to ask, “When did you last have them?” rather than helping physically. I’m 28, and I do need to move out soon, but I’m broke, and it’s unclear to both of us when that will be coming to an end.

The other day I came home from work and my mom was watching Antiques Roadshow on PBS, and it made me feel so sad. She’s not fighting the aging process as hard as I think she should, and in my mind tuning into this show amounts to an all-out surrender to death.

If you’re not familiar with the show — for… More…