Please join us in celebrating Jonathan Yungkans, the only person to date who has won Synkroniciti contests in multiple categories: poetry (3:3 “Birds”) and cover art (photography for @ 2:4 “Hidden”). “Wild” features three stunning poems: “Duplex Sequence: Not the Smoothness, Not the Insane Clocks on the Wall,” “Now I Know Why I’ve Always Hated the Tango, yet Loved the Intimacy” and “i look you back from looking through me lone wolf.” The first is a reworked duplex version of a piece we published back in Spring 2020 (2:2 “Uncharted”) near the beginning of the pandemic. Over the intervening three years the poem has matured, darkening into a thrilling tribute to old movies and their slightly less old remakes, to Los Angeles, fast food via Doordash, and life in the shadow of Covid. It’s a joy and privilege to see a piece evolve and to be a small part of the process. “Now I Know Why” is a gorgeous cadralor, linking bougainvillea thorns to Medusa’s serpentine coiffure while disputing the gynophobia behind the Gorgon myth, continuing with Buddhist monks warming gingko trees in snowstorms. Then the link between feet, pain and sexuality emerges with foot binding, talons and blood red nail polish, and finally we come full circle sitting with great-grandma near the bougainvillea. It’s a marvel of connection that is both tenuous and undeniable. That’s cadralor magic and Jonathan is a master. “i look you back” was a finalist in the “Wild” Contest, exploring the kinship felt with a wild animal, a wolf who walks up to the porch at night. It’s an uneasy and dubious kinship that contains danger and hints at madness until the spell is broken and “Night, greedy, devours us both, leaves nothing.” Jonathan’s meticulous attention to detail and form is so electric that you may find yourself holding your breath, arrested by the gentle, sinuous and insistent rhythm of his verse.
Order your copy of “Wild” to experience Jonathan’s mesmerizing poetry: https://synkroniciti.com/the-magazine/purchase-individual-issues/.
Jonathan Yungkans listens to the pouring Southern California rain in the wee hours of what some call morning and others some mild form of insanity and types while watching a large skunk meander under the foundation of a century-old house. He is thankful when his writing is less noxious than that jittery creature on the other side of those floorboards. During what some choose to call normal hours, he works as an in-home health-care provider, fueled by copious amounts of coffee while finding time for the occasional deep breath. His poems have appeared in Gyroscope Review, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Panoply, Unbroken and other publications.