Literary Journals & Magazines

Executive Overview

In the contemporary literary landscape, poetry often serves as a mirror reflecting the quiet absurdities, profound griefs, and fleeting moments of grace that define the human condition. On August 17, 2026, the prestigious literary publication The Missouri Review released its weekly poetic feature, capturing the attention of critics and readers alike. The focal point of this release is "In Another Life," a striking, surreal, and deeply resonant poem written by Appalachian author and scholar Amanda Gaines.

Gaines, a postdoctoral fellow and teaching assistant professor at the University of Tennessee with a PhD in creative writing from Oklahoma State University, has built a formidable reputation through her publications in esteemed journals such as The Southern Review, Rattle, Pleiades, Ninth Letter, and Passages North. However, her latest work marks a distinct departure from conventional lyricism, offering instead an inventory of bizarre discoveries, psychological excavations, and domestic surrealism.

Built entirely around the anaphoric refrain "I found," the poem reads as a breathless catalog of alternate realities. From finding a fox skull on a highway and keeping it in a freezer to discovering Atlantis and finding it profoundly underwhelming, Gaines uses absurdism to chart a course through emotional stagnation and creative burnout. In her accompanying author’s note, Gaines reveals that the piece emerged from a "writing dry spell"—a period of feeling unmoored and bored. What began as a formal experiment in speculation blossomed into a profound meditation on the messy, vulnerable nature of hope.

This comprehensive report examines the cultural and literary significance of "In Another Life," breaking down its thematic resonance, structural mechanics, the psychological origins articulated by its author, and its broader impact on the contemporary American poetry scene.


Detailed Chronology & Literary Context

To fully understand the gravity of Amanda Gaines’s "In Another Life," one must first examine the trajectory of her literary career and the immediate circumstances surrounding the poem’s creation. Gaines, whose creative roots run deep in the Appalachian region, has spent years establishing herself as a formidable voice in contemporary American letters. Her academic pedigree—culminating in a doctorate in creative writing from Oklahoma State University—underpins a rigorous technical control that is clearly visible even in her most experimental verses.

The Genesis of a Dry Spell

Every writer recognizes the creeping dread of a creative drought. For Gaines, this dry spell manifested not merely as a lack of output, but as a deeper existential fatigue. Feeling unmoored and creatively paralyzed, she began ruminating on the concept of revisionist histories—the psychological crutch of imagining alternate timelines where choices were reversed, tragedies averted, or personalities entirely reinvented.

However, Gaines’s approach diverged from standard nostalgic rumination. She noted that when human beings are entirely honest with themselves, their private fantasies and alternate lives can be surprisingly embarrassing, mundane, or just as disappointing as the realities they currently inhabit. This realization became the catalyst for "In Another Life."

The Mechanical Choice: Anaphora and Inventory

To break through her creative paralysis, Gaines imposed a structural constraint upon herself: the relentless repetition of the phrase "I found."

In poetry, anaphora—the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive clauses—serves as a drumbeat, driving the momentum forward while establishing a hypnotic rhythm. By grounding every single line or couplet with "I found," Gaines transformed the poem into a cabinet of curiosities. Each line item introduces a new artifact, psychological quirk, or surreal domestic vignette.

The chronology of the poem moves fluidly between the macabre ("I found a fox skull on the highway and kept my freezer"), the mundane ("I found a vacuum cleaner on sale and couldn’t afford it"), the cosmic ("I found God but lost Him at Sam’s Club"), and the deeply intimate ("I found the right words to say to you"). Through this rapid-fire accumulation of discoveries, Gaines maps out an interior landscape that is equal parts hilarious, tragic, and utterly recognizable.


The Anatomy of "In Another Life": A Textual Breakdown

A close reading of Amanda Gaines’s poem reveals a masterclass in tonal shifting. The piece moves seamlessly from high surrealism to painful self-deprecation without missing a beat.

“In Another Life” by Amanda Gaines | Poem of the Week
In Another Life

I found a fox skull on the highway and kept it in my freezer.
I found a private school to send my stretch marks.
I found a vacuum cleaner on sale and couldn’t afford it.
I found you can get around guilt with an oyster fork.
I found a letter in my mailbox addressed to a version of me I’d never met and got
embarrassed.
I found my G-spot hiding behind my ears.
I found a receipt showing I bought all this self-esteem but can’t remember where
I put it.
I found a teacup full of wine and fell in.
I found that tearing velvet from antlers isn’t all that painful.
I found God but lost Him at Sam’s Club.
I found a bottomless lake in my closet, grew gills, and was very proud of my
adaptability.
I found my knuckles tattooed with the word prodigal.
I found Atlantis and wasn’t impressed.
I found it within myself to say I hope you’re happy and mean it.
I found a dollar on the side of the road and spent the next seven years searching
for its owner.
I found a fortune teller who said she’d refer me to a psychologist.
I found a strand of yarn sticking out of my rug, and I’m still pulling.
I found a way to get with the program already.
I found the fève in a king cake, but nobody would acknowledge my sovereignty.
I found my mind at the pound and bought a shock collar.
I found revenge tastes fine regardless of its preparation.
I found the perfect ant colony to join, and no, we’re not a cult.
I found coal in a river and didn’t tell anyone.
I found a treasure map, but didn’t feel up for a challenge.
I found the right words to say to you.
I found a parasitic wasp cracking a chrysalis and didn’t make it about me.
I found a tooth beneath my pillow and didn’t ask questions.
I found time and applied for an apartment in her belly.
I found out after a lot of fucking around.
I found peace while unpeeling an orange and couldn’t believe my luck.
I found the mistletoe at a Christmas party and stayed there all night,
open-mouthed.

Key Thematic Clusters

  1. The Domestic Surreal: Gaines excels at juxtaposing the ordinary mechanics of modern life with surreal, mythic imagery. Sending stretch marks to a private school, failing to afford a discounted vacuum cleaner, and losing God at a Sam’s Club anchor the poem in a distinctly contemporary, slightly down-on-its-luck American reality. These moments speak to economic anxiety, body dysmorphia, and the commercialization of the sacred.
  2. The Exploration of the Psyche: Several lines delve directly into psychological territory with biting humor. Finding self-esteem on a lost receipt, having a fortune teller recommend a psychologist, and putting a shock collar on a mind found at the pound capture the speaker’s wry self-awareness regarding her own mental health and emotional baggage.
  3. Resilience and Adaptation: Beneath the humor lies a profound resilience. Growing gills after discovering a bottomless lake in a closet or spending seven years searching for the owner of a stray dollar illustrate an absurd, dogged determination to keep moving forward.
  4. Moments of Grace: The poem culminates not in grand epiphanies, but in small, startling moments of unearned peace. Finding peace while unpeeling an orange, successfully resisting the urge to make a parasitic wasp’s metamorphosis about oneself, and finding the right words to say to a loved one offer quiet emotional payoffs that elevate the poem from a mere list of jokes into a deeply moving artistic statement.

Supporting Context, Metrics, and Literary Pedigree

To appreciate the weight of Amanda Gaines’s selection as The Missouri Review’s Poem of the Week, one must look at the broader ecosystem of her literary output and academic standing.

Publication History and Critical Acclaim

Gaines’s work has steadily populated the table of contents of America’s most rigorous literary journals. Her inclusion in publications like Southern Humanities Review, American Literary Review, Willow Springs, Redivider, New Orleans Review, Southeast Review, Juked, SmokeLong Quarterly, and Cleaver points to a writer who is equally comfortable in poetry and flash fiction, capable of compressing narrative tension into razor-sharp phrases.

Journal / Publication Literary Focus
The Southern Review Long-standing bastion of premier American literature and poetry.
Passages North Celebrates quirky, daring, and deeply inventive contemporary writing.
Rattle Dedicated exclusively to poetry, emphasizing accessibility and emotional punch.
SmokeLong Quarterly Internationally renowned venue for flash narrative and hybrid forms.
The Missouri Review High-tier literary institution known for discovering and elevating major voices.

The Academic Footprint

Currently serving as a postdoctoral fellow and teaching assistant professor at the University of Tennessee, Gaines represents a new generation of Appalachian academics who are actively reshaping the boundaries of regional literature. Her creative writing doctorate from Oklahoma State University provided a rigorous theoretical framework that allows her to subvert traditional poetic forms with structural irony and linguistic precision.


Official Statements & Author’s Reflections

In her official author’s note accompanying the publication, Gaines provided invaluable insight into the psychological and artistic mechanics that birthed "In Another Life." Her reflections dismantle the romanticized notion that poetry always flows from a place of divine inspiration, acknowledging instead the messy, unglamorous reality of creative labor.

"This poem began as a kind of thought experiment—one I hoped would pull me out from a writing dry spell. Back then, I felt unmoored. Bored. I spent a lot of time thinking about revisionist histories, the allure of speculation, and the ways in which, if we are honest with ourselves, our fantasies can be pretty embarrassing or just as disappointing as our lived lives."

Gaines elaborates on how the formal constraint of the anaphora served as an emotional vehicle rather than just a stylistic trick:

"The anaphora of ‘I found’ allowed me to consider the repetitive act of being in the world with wonder rather than resignation. What possibilities open up when we allow ourselves to play or get real with the stickier aspects of our humanity? Conceding a dream self—even ones that are messy or silly—is to confess the most vulnerable of feelings: hope. This poem is an exercise in hopefulness that I, we, you, whoever, can still be surprised when tracing the worn grooves of our interior lives."

This statement underscores the core paradox of the poem: by leaning into absurdity, humiliation, and deadpan inventory, the speaker paradoxically opens herself up to genuine emotional vulnerability. Hope, in Gaines’s hands, is not a grand, triumphant fanfare; it is the stubborn act of pulling on a strand of yarn in a rug, knowing full well it might unravel the entire room.


Future Outlook & Literary Legacy

The publication of "In Another Life" in The Missouri Review marks a significant milestone in Amanda Gaines’s career, signaling her growing prominence in the national literary conversation. As she continues her work as a postdoctoral fellow and teaching assistant professor at the University of Tennessee, her expanding portfolio of published works suggests that a debut poetry collection or extended manuscript cannot be far behind.

For contemporary poetry enthusiasts, Gaines offers a refreshing antidote to the overly earnest, confessional verse that often clogs literary journals. By marrying deadpan Appalachian wit with avant-garde surrealism, she demonstrates that poetry can be simultaneously hilarious, devastating, and formally rigorous.

As readers across the country encounter "In Another Life," the poem’s cascading inventory of bizarre discoveries invites each of us to audit our own interior landscapes. It reminds us that even when we feel stuck, unmoored, or lost—whether wandering the aisles of a Sam’s Club or pulling desperately at a loose thread—there is always room for the startling, unmerited grace of being surprised by our own lives.