God, last seen in Milwaukee angry, turning rain into coffee waking up rats and the visiting team stranding benches and warm stadium seats. The surfaces of my city turn snow into steam and we, debris, huddle under tenements and towers the wires that connect them, which are the stitches in a blanket of rust. And I went … Continue reading
Category Archives: Poetry 2012
Gardeners — Perry Thompson
those who never lifted earth lift my son’s body in its sleeping whispered prayers can’t hide the open wound in his chest but i have hidden seeds in the boy so when he’s planted in the ground rebellion will push up like some crazy crimson flower Continue reading
Jellyfish — James Doyle
ordain the beach, little pontiffs in the rolling brightness of their robes. Sacred sand now. The blessed in their bikinis wallow for art among daubs of minor poison, see-through stinging like grace-notes against the sun’s glares, edgings in relief to bring out the Mediterranean day. No one goes in the water before or after the … Continue reading
The Luncheon — James Doyle
They set a table out on the Alps just for us. “This is a neutral country,” the waiter said, “you can have anything you want.” The mountains were very proud of their muscles, flexed them every chance they got. They would rub away any whiff from the rest of the world if it tried to … Continue reading
Cartoon Characters — Donald Illich
Last night we chose to be cartoon characters with four fingers on each hand, a permanent grin on our faces, or the shocked expression from an explosion. We loved each other, but it was always pursuit, you chasing after me up the stairs, me scrambling away from your embrace. You would sing your love, a … Continue reading
Rhinoceros — Donald Illich
Do you see it? It’s behind your back, grinning. We meet each other at night in the grasslands. Telling jokes to each other, we swear we are real. Then I ride it, holding on to its horn, as the stars make their entrance, the night framing us as one. Now it follows me. Through asphalt … Continue reading
Civitate Dei — William Spencer
I look around for a frame free of artifice. At best I get cigar smoke blown through a harmonica in C. Behind my head is the lowest quality conversation I’ve ever heard. Earlier, locals pointed weapons at me from porches as I walked by. They informed me that I wasn’t from this neighborhood. If I’m … Continue reading
Cosmogony — William Spencer
The influence of Humbaba revives you and compels you to destroy art. The influence of Enlil suggests that you never die. Climb the mountains and whisper into their ears. Don’t interrupt. Fire rises up to repair with the empyrean as you try and fail to go to the river a second time. As you try … Continue reading
Perennial Garden Stitch Assist, High Resolution — Nylah Lyman
I spy on the unmanned, barbershop-striped lighthouse for hours at a time; also, the fishermen’s wharf with its barnacled fleet, hulls bobbing like paint pots, tinting the waves duckling- yellow, star-gazer red. I never tire of our colorful rivalry. I’m an early-riser, purposeful as the squat, disused fortress on the horizon, or the sharp-nosed terrier … Continue reading
Sojourn — Nylah Lyman
Low-Density Residential I am trying to accept this place for what it is, with its screeching toddlers and indiscriminate, nighttime artillery drills, its speeding mini-vans and ATVs that run the roads, kicking fine plumes of dust fifteen feet into the air. I balance this suburban unrest with the mosaic of sun-glossed oak leaves outside my … Continue reading
Coe Review 