Poetry

Studying for the MCAT by Sharon Venezio

Studying for the MCAT by Sharon Venezio

Lungs, you say, are the unimagined house inside the body, the breathing universe with the breadth of snow and silence and the Trachea is a lonely brown thrasher singing the longest love song in history. We lie in bed, gaze at the phosphorescent stars stuck to the ceiling and wall, constellations collide with the...
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Seized Lies My Body

Seized Lies My Body

Lek Borja Seized lies my body in the latitude of her sex How her desire shines like luminescence in the sea as if the moon were inside it, as in every hour where we enter together Tenderly sink then float longingly so My eyes follow her journey down to its end With her tears...
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Beaver Valley Homestead – 1966

Beaver Valley Homestead – 1966

   Jordan Hartt        (grass buckles in the newborn wind)                 (the cattle on a thousand hills are mine)            (gravel settles behind wheels)      (grain the color of nickel waves in dull sunlight)                                                                                                                         (worn overalls hang off the whitewashed porch railing) (with a farmhand he brands sullen calves)               (weathered fences...
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Saint Elizabeth’s

Saint Elizabeth’s

Sarah Long   My body is an ever-changing clock— spastic springs and gears never settling, never keeping proper time. Bodies carry bodies in pockets, on chains like skin-scented heirlooms. When my grandmother died, she left me her first kiss, the ticking sound of summer asphalt and peach fuzzed legs. I see my mother’s handwriting...
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From the Fire

From the Fire

Donnelle McGee for Seven i come from them smoggy nights in LA i come from the meeting of john and prostitute i come from the ohio players shouting fire i come from being told                  here                  take these food stamps to the market and get some milk for you and your brother i come from under the...
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Age of Parallax

Age of Parallax

Vivian Faith Prescott   The muddy tide rising to shore should carry you downriver by now. But, I imagine your scow wedged between cottonwoods on the riverbank branches shoved through your chest motor revving. Maybe your skiff                                                       is jammed on the sandbar, and you’ve stumbled over the side, whirlpools sucking your rubber-booted feet. But...
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Ranch Poems

Ranch Poems

Stephen Page     Last Night I Dreamed Rain   The clouds quickened under a wax moon, then settled around plastic palm fronds. My truck stuck in river bed three, and just like the time it slipped into a ditch, I tried to push it out alone, putting it in gear, then straining under...
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A Fine Meal [Ars Poetica]

A Fine Meal [Ars Poetica]

Nancy Long   i.         Harmony A fine Chinese meal my mother said is made of five flavors, a blending of elemental portions. What is sour, she said, if not the flesh of plum?                                 To know sour is to taste green                                 watering across your tongue, to feel the force of wood striking your...
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Scenes from a Housefire Two: The Firemen Asked

Scenes from a Housefire Two: The Firemen Asked

Jane Cassady     Is there anything we can go in and get for you before we board it up? Before the window plywood gets its eventual graffiti, before you wash the clothes in Pine Sol to get out the smell of smoke, before a loving friend helps fold those clothes, so specifically and...
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I Didn’t Know You Could Sign a Corner Store Like a Cast

I Didn’t Know You Could Sign a Corner Store Like a Cast

Jane Cassady   But here it is. As we walk the summer camp kindergarten through third grade down the street to Pleasant Playground for their weekly swim, the kids are in their two quiet lines, listening for traffic and blue jays. The shutters are open, even though it's only been a week. "Poor Mr....
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When by Michelle Strawberry Heymann

When by Michelle Strawberry Heymann

  I judge myself deeply, harshly – don’t allow courtesy given others, thoughtless tortured by tumultuous thoughts, ticking driving negativity nails through, aching begging, the merciless obsession eradicated, relentless screaming behind frozen stare, scared floods back like recoiling toes from cold water, endless forgiveness, permission – breathe and be, redemption when      ...
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Paul by Wednesday Hobson

Paul by Wednesday Hobson

  I cannot muster effort enough to show what is and unspoken there what little deserves and overly qualifies a human to which I am particular.   There is a body: made of sinews, contrasting with elasticity – his rubberband arms and legs cinnamon facades made for over-ambiguity – preserving a heart perpetual pumped...
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Android Poems by Lek Borja

Android Poems by Lek Borja

  1. Phenomenon Outcome spirals             Through my circuitry, moving               To thought, I am Pale, mouthing             I do what I am told               I am built for something I raise my eyes             To whatever draws near, someone               Touches me With my own hands       2....
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Drive-Through by Jessica Kinkade

Drive-Through by Jessica Kinkade

If you pull up to the And order something cheap but good Have but secretly crave, And they’ll wrap her in whole wheat lace Along with the tomato lube and honey Dijon. And the smell of her leaking juices is so pungent – That you can put aside your She came from, Under the...
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If by Abigail Templeton-Greene

If by Abigail Templeton-Greene

             in remembrance of Eun Kang What if it were just called Monday, not Night of Remembrance, not Ceremony or Candlelight Vigil? If this night was a night with nothing to take back? If women did not carry tea lights or pray under a canopy of bamboo? What if...
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Experimental by Susan Johnson

Experimental by Susan Johnson

  At the observation station observers tried observing themselves making observations and were impressed by the results. A film loop of a loop of film being filmed in a loop. For scientific purposes, some said. For posterity said others, to preserve in our selves the making of ourselves, as seen in the making. Doesn't...
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The Caper of the Missing Koi by Luisa Villani

The Caper of the Missing Koi by Luisa Villani

    How to still the gills                                         until they need to go how to go                                         from...
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Tarantino Fever by Eileen Murphy

Tarantino Fever by Eileen Murphy

It's midnight and the only two people in the green house are watching Tarantino films, the blood on the screen screaming "Get down!" The house shakes its roof doubtfully because the couple should go to sleep instead of arguing about who's the best director, and is Tarantino cool or only a wannabe, and is...
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Under the Moon Light by Gary Metras

Under the Moon Light by Gary Metras

That scoundrel, man—he gets used to everything.                                                    Fyodor Dostoevsky   Maybe the moon is full and bright and earth reveals bones, shallow graves in a shallow war. Maybe the moon’s light plays with the meek fire of men cramped beneath a bridge in Ohio as they watch gray chunks of ice float...
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Dead for Decades by Steve Brightman

Dead for Decades by Steve Brightman

This morning I read Auden and his account of Icarus plunging into the apathetic sea, while I sat in a rocking chair sipping coffee cooled by milk that was nearing its expiration date.   Auden has been dead for decades and the sea remains unimpressed by us all.   Steve Brightman lives in Kent,...
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