Category: Fall 2010 Poetry
Creation
by Wade Linebaugh These are the final nights of spring. A man feels God under the hot stars, when he must take fistfuls of grass just to stay
fall fugue
by Wade Linebaugh the pebble in my mouth tastes like chalk, an acrid river-rock culled from the bed of earth’s strangest river. i sympathize with
“all the tired horses in the sun how’m i s’posed to get any riding done?”
by Wade Linebaugh Being a strange boybird, Icarus is too busy to take Mom & Dad’s calls & a little girl eats wagon wheels covered in
To Whom
by Anele Rubin To whom can you say the wind suddenly stopped, the evening clouds were tinted pink, the mare laid her heavy head on my shoulder?
Reading Your Way into the Ocean of a Book
by Hope Coulter For the first few lines of a book you’re aware of the text, the black on cream, the building of sentences out of words. The
Before Arriving
by Sally Molini Walking to my friends’ place, I know the evening will be a series of stock visuals: Humberto tossing salad, me slicing bread
Dirty Snow
by Renée Hearrin The cedar cape drips its milk-white mask, quaint boucléd roof and icicle lace, patchy wet windows, porch and walk to muddled
Take To Water
by Renée Hearrin Wilted in the heat, the limp ray petals of a Shasta daisy hang in defeat. Underneath the brittle back yard, its roots search as
The Window
by Matthew M. Cariello Then I knew one word, birthright’s rudiment uttered in hunger’s warm room. The sense of me without sense. I would have
Foundation
by Matthew M. Cariello Clutter in the vestibule where steps buckled and mortar cracked. I watched my father crawl into the dark beneath the stoop