The Quarterless Review ︎

A weekly, collaborative journal harvested from the fields of isolation.
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Review ︎

A weekly, collaborative journal harvested from the fields of isolation. 
Learn more...


︎   ︎   ︎

Featured Artists:

Carol Arranges the Bodies and other poems

Written by:

Jackie Braje’s “Carol Arranges the Bodies,” is a part of a longer project she is working on, arising from an email exchange between her and her grandmother. The visual landscape Brajie creates, made knowable through her gentle diction and careful construction of color and sound, brings the reader inside. Being that, all three poems are thematically linked by a feeling of interiority. The interiority of self-reflection, or the interiority of being at home with the people who make it that way.

Carol Arranges the Bodies 

Listen along here:

It is said a Mother and Daughter laid alone in front of a screen door, together, for cool air in the summer orchard of Cromwell, IN, but I doubt it, for the dog was also there, for the gladiolas were there, for the father loved the garden for having them, for the future was alone, there, and yet. And the gladiolas, they were there, in the garden—and the gray snake in the cherry tree— and the Mother would hoe the rows and the Daughter would drop the seeds behind her, and the big bearded iris. The green beans. Sweet corn. It was the Mother’s red baseball cap lost to the teeth of the Father’s bailer and it was the Mother’s rage, the Daughter’s broken pinkie. A first class seamstress was the Mother and their bodies there, by the screen door, were gorged in floral yellow and sun.

John Wayne

I dream about your family, often.

Your mother is dousing the dining room

with kerosene for every witness and

your father is proud of me and your brother

is throwing his wineglass at the kitchen sink,

laughing at the impact and your sister,

she couldn’t be born, I am sorry to say.

Above our bed is a picture of John

Wayne on a California billboard

with daggers of palm fronds threatening

his face (these interest me the most

though I can’t dream about those).

Yes, and wasn’t it good? When he offered

to build his girl a house at the bend

in the river where the cottonwoods grow? 

Living Room

What am I looking for?

Innumerable silver pools,

lacerated pools,

fish with their mirroring scales, pools;

I want to be all alone and

merged with you,

do you understand me?

I want to be a body

that isn’t my body

or your body

or anybody.

I found a dog

and called it bird

and you and I are the only

hands she’ll take the

bones from. Here are

all of us in these ill-fitting

forms: glue the feathers

to the bone for me and I

will do the same for her.

Follow Jackie:


Instagram: @jackiebraje


Jackie Braje is a Brooklyn based poet. She is the Programs Director of The Poetry Society of New York, the co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of Milk Press, and a Poetry MFA candidate at Brooklyn College. Her work has appeared in The Minnesota Review, The Nottingham Review, Brooklyn Poets, Vagabond City, Waccamaw, Bridge Eight, and elsewhere. She is the recipient of a 2019 Brooklyn Poets Fellowship and a 2020 Mineral School Artist Residency.