Home Poetry - Year III - Number 9 - Volume Two - September 2017

Poetry - Year III - Number 9 - Volume Two - September 2017

    PLATONIC LOVE by Ray Fenech

    0
    PLATONIC LOVEBy Raymond Fenech This Will Never happen to me Syndrome There is Christmas, Easter and Valentine but also depressing advertisements about cancer. Outside - the...

    WHAT WAS THAT CITY by Mary Crow

    0
    WHAT WAS THAT CITYBy Mary Crow       WHAT WAS THAT CITY―after Cavafy What city tangled me in its sandy roots,led me into desert, where I gasped at vastness and vacancy, pyramids fringingmiles of nothing growing, a...

    NANCY MOREJON’S POETRY Translated by Connor Simons

    0
    WINDThree Poems from Nancy Morejon’s “Mutismos”Translated by Connor L. Simons Wind A circle. A spirit. A mirror.Immediately myself.From that torturous seat,you come in pursuit of me.What...

    YOUR SUNDAY BEST by Scott Laudati

    0
    YOUR SUNDAY BESTBy Scott Laudati Your Sunday Best i can see girls at barstoolsready again to push their doubtsdown past the breakers,past spilled pints and menthat...

    INDIAN POINT by Jack Brown

    0
    INDIAN POINTBy Jack Brown After planting purple spider wortaround the tombstone of the old soldierin the cemetery at the end of the roadwe scuttle from ridge to ridge.A country...

    ROMANCE OF THE MASK by Frederick Pollack

    0
    ROMANCE OF THE MASKBy Frederick Pollack  Kin By the late seventeenth century he isat least possible, crying “Bring outyour dead” and breaking intohouses where the distinctionis...

    MY NOTEBOOK by Charles Dutka

    0
    MY NOTEBOOKBy Charles Dutka  Cafe’ in a Basement This green teatastes like cadmiumor is it stardustand raspberries? Its glass container the textureof musicand the...

    TRACK 18 by Benjamin Schmitt

    0
    TRACK 18By Benjamin Schmitt Track 18 Sophie bears me to ill willshe cannot barethe weight of her own heartshe-bears have robbed herwith their raw fish breathand...

    ICE CREAM TRUCK by Alicia Cole

    0
         ICE CREAM TRUCKBy Alicia Cole     Ice Cream TruckThe cone is always the cone.The rhyme scheme, the metric oomph:these hold the dripping words.They're always melting.  The sonnet,the sapphic, the prose poem, the cento.Melting into...