Now the Joshua trees are witheringin the drought—“not to recoverin our lifetimes”—and the desert below themis spalling, unstitching itself. Nowitself is spalling. Incrementallymaking itself unavailable to us. Unavailableto use. Our rapacious use. And thoughthe rocks buzzwith energy, pulsating in tunewith the earth’s vibrations, their droneis beyond what we hear. Sothe ground truth is a constantrevision. Who can readacross the vertiginous stanzabreaks? And whatpossible explanation is therefor our wrong turning, but our insistentrepetition of the wrong turning?
[Now the Joshua trees are withering]
Forrest Gander
Feature Date
- February 2, 2025
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“[Now the Joshua trees are withering],” by Forrest Gander, from MOJAVE GHOST, copyright © 2023, 2024 by Forrest Gander. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp.

A writer and translator with degrees in geology and literature, Forrest Gander was born in the Mojave Desert. Awarded the Pulitzer Prize and the Best Translated Book Award, Gander has been a signal voice for environmental poetics. His most recent books are Mojave Ghost: a Novel Poem and Across/Ground: Photographs by Lukas Felzmann.
"Expansive and arresting… a book-length single poem that spans time, space, and narrative perspective against stark and arresting desert environments... Readers will be wowed."
— Publishers Weekly
"A compelling concoction of ecopoetic wonder, filled to the brim with insights into the inner workings of a speaker forever in longing after having longed, and loving after having loved—and having been loved."
— Andrew Jones, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
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