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

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

    YOUR SUNDAY BEST by Scott Laudati

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    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 wouldn’t carry them on their backslike their fathers.there are cities...

    TRACK 18 by Benjamin Schmitt

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    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 den scentsof the inquisitive breezethat once scatteredorganized leaf piles of...

    LOTUS by Martina Reisz Newberry

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    LOTUSBy Martina Reisz Newberry  LOTUS On the other side of the mountain,my wealthy friend has built a castle.It was a long project but now sits, quiet as a profound thought, complete.The day I visited her, we hadcoffee...

    MY NOTEBOOK by Charles Dutka

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    MY NOTEBOOKBy Charles Dutka  Cafe’ in a Basement This green teatastes like cadmiumor is it stardustand raspberries? Its glass container the textureof musicand the color ofrunic magicperformed on a stageof frozen salt. It was the temperature of that bluish...

    ON THE SANDS OF LIDO by Bob Varghese

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    ON THE SANDS OF LIDOBy B. A. Varghese Knowing It was enoughknowing he was therehis presence like an army of giantsbaritone voices encouragingalong the battle linestrong hands behind meguarding guidingplunging me forward to my future manyet...

    PLATONIC LOVE by Ray Fenech

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    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 slime and sleet - endless winter. Never before had I...

    NANCY MOREJON’S POETRY Translated by Connor Simons

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    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 do you search forunder my black figurethat hides itself,even though...

    INDIAN POINT by Jack Brown

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    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 Docand a visitor from New York. May...

    ICE CREAM TRUCK by Alicia Cole

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         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 the readers'...

    ROMANCE OF THE MASK by Frederick Pollack

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    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 moot; where the doctorswith great beaked masks full of posieshave...