Tag Archive

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 down the river. Will the sky
smile when one slips [...]

Tuesday Afternoon Shopping by Matthew Roberts

Tuesday Afternoon Shopping.

This one night stand that I was looking for
has now wasted 4 months of my life.
She looked beautiful on the dance floor,
that’s all different on Tuesday afternoon
as she dumps a large box of condoms
into the shopping trolley. She says,
‘It costs less when you buy more of them.’
‘That’s great.’ I say behind [...]

For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror By Lita Sorensen

 For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
                                                (found phrase) after Rilke
 
That first flush of daylight against the hills—
the rosy fingers of antiquity
still with us, now, leavening
the sky across black branches
curving, hatched and glorious:
alive, as we eke human cries
through days and centuries, believe
our own words and the purpose of our deaths.
 
                                She disdains [...]

Selections from When the Catfish Are In Bloom: Requiem for John Fahey by Ed Frankel

Born in 1939 in Maryland, John Fahey pioneered the use of traditional country and blues finger picking to showcase the acoustic steel string guitar as a solo instrument that could play a mix of traditional and non-traditional musical genres. He collaged ideas associated with Bartok, Charles Ives, Indian and Gamelan

Farbende by Ed Frankel

The iron treadles rock and doven
in the flatiron shadows, pressed air and piece work.
Hungry hands move like birds.
Every week the girl who makes the least gets fired.