original art for Night of the Fire

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Ali's poems have been published in Aôthen Magazine, Stanchion, and Diode Poetry Journal (forthcoming). NIGHT OF THE FIRE, his debut chapbook, is forthcoming from Ethel Zine & Micro Press in May 2025.You can read "Penelope to Odysseus" in Aôthen Magazine, or buy a copy of Stanchion to read "Origin Story."

ChapbooksNight of the Fire (Ethel, 2025) - forthcomingSelected Writing2025
"Embalm," "Star-spangled" and "Gentlest of Bleeding Things" in Diode Poetry Journal (forthcoming)
2024
"Penelope to Odysseus" in Aôthen Magazine
"Origin Story" in Stanchion


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Early Praise for Night of the Fire‘I still feel its detail dented in the flesh,’ writes Ali C in ‘Embalm,’ ‘like a fish thrashing on land, its conspicuous / black eye shining…’ Like this conjured fish, Night of the Fire jolts, thrashes, and writhes toward and away from violence, embodying a poetics of horror that is riven, also, with desire—a desire for mercy, for justice, for life. These poems concern the body, while also conveying the estrangements of self from self in the wake of traumas; these haunting and haunted poems leave their startling, palpable dents on the heart.

—Gabrielle Bates, author of Judas Goat

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If you want poetry that lingers long after the last page is turned, this chapbook is for you. Fierce and deeply intimate, these poems unravel the threads of violence, longing and trauma with aching vulnerability and unflinching honesty. ‘I have wanted to be a beautiful thing for all my life,’ writes Ali C. These pages are a reclamation of self, of country, and of one's story, even as it writes of ‘lovers and homes as if they are strangers.’ This is poetry that dares, and I am grateful to have read this beautiful work.

—Noor Hindi, author of Dear God. Dear Bones. Dear Yellow.

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“Somebody told me grief is the door / and not the room,” writes Ali C in ‘Gentlest of Bleeding Things.’ If grief is the door, Night of the Fire is the room, and I am so grateful Ali has let us in. His poems are deft and unyielding in their examination of bodily and cultural trauma, prompting readers to consider and reconsider questions of individual and collective power, disaster, and complicity. This collection underscores the asymptotic nature of grief and survivorship: however close you feel to your old self, the old world, it is impossible to touch, and a new world must be fashioned from the ashes. In this respect, Night of the Fire is unapologetic—Ali parses the alienation inherent to survivorship, sitting with and interrogating the agony of aftermath. Reading these poems feels like keeping my hand on a white-hot stove. It is a privilege to be living and writing at the same time as Ali C—I look forward to reading more of his work.

—Maria Gray, author of Universal Red