MEAD:  The Magazine of Literature & Libations

about libations, although we are not above such things. Rather, Mead wants to publish the best poetry, translations, commentary, reviews, and interviews that it can find. The editors pair works they publish with a particular drink category, much as you pair your cream with your coffee, your Maes Pils with your moules frites. Send your most intoxicating work, regardless of subject or form.

We will do the rest.

Photo by Jane Linders

Mead, as you know,

Mead is not literature

is fermented honey. Libations are drinks poured as offerings to the god(s). We intend Mead to be small and explosive, writing we would want to read while waiting at the bar for our lover. Writing that is fermented, burnt, makes some kind of penance, offering, or sacrifice. Has breakage, but tooth. Writing with ropes, legs, residue. Writing that leaves ashes.



Mead mourns the loss of our friend Kurt Brown, a wonderful poet and editor, as well as a generous soul and an inspiration to many of us here. Kurt’s friend Wyn Cooper has written an elegy to Kurt, which appears, appropriately so, in our Wine section of this issue.


We are, however, thrilled to welcome Kurt’s wife, the poet Laure-Anne Bosselaar, as a new Editor at Mead. Kurt and Laure-Anne worked together on many editing and translation projects, and we are very lucky to have her join the staff here.


We will be at AWP in Seattle 2014! Look out for our off-site reading at Velocity Dance Center on Friday, Feb. 28, in collab-oration with StoryQuarterly and Tran(s)tudies!





House Bartender: This issue of Mead is dedicated to the memory of Kurt Brown, who was the House Bartender for our Spring 2013 volume. For Fall 2013, we’ve chosen to use a line or two from Kurt’s published work at the head of each drink category.


Featured Libation:
“My friends, this wine… I won’t suggest flavors, ‘pomegranate and fresh cracked pepper.’ No. Allow me just one beside-the-point wine note: if you all close your eyes as you take the first sip, think of forbidden love, now gone, those stolen moments. Here’s to that wine.”


                   - Liviu Martinescu


Volume 6