Archive for July, 2011
Sunday, July 31st, 2011
“Match Girls” by Ilyse Kusnetz
Ilyse Kusnetz MATCH GIRLS In the factories of America during the 19th century, girls hired to make sulfur matches would dip the matchends into a chemical vat, then lick the tips to make them stiff. The vats were filled with zinc sulfide, a radioactive substance about which no one warned them, so when their teeth [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Megan
Saturday, July 30th, 2011
SACRED GRAFFITI by Florence Weinberger
Review by Beth Browne SACRED GRAFFITI by Florence Weinberger Tebot Bach Box 7887 Huntington Beach, CA 92615-7887 ISBN 978-1-8936706-0-0 2010, 77pp., $15.00 www.tebotbach.org In one of those small world coincidences that pepper my life, I first learned of Malibu poet Florence Weinberger when she entered one of the North Carolina Poetry Society contests I was [...]
No Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Friday, July 29th, 2011
“As Crickets Chip Away the Light” by Michael Kriesel
Michael Kriesel AS CRICKETS CHIP AWAY THE LIGHT I quit the news, turning my back on the world except for the weather robot on the radio: chrome manikin sitting all day, all night at a gray metal desk in a white broadcast booth reading the page of our future over and over into an old [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Thursday, July 28th, 2011
“Such Music as This” by Jerry Kraft
Jerry Kraft SUCH MUSIC AS THIS “These people didn’t do anything to be like this,” said Bill, who looks more like a truck-driver, or maybe a short-order cook, than the old pro who has cared for these people for so many years. “They just got shit on by God, so we help them.” Kindness is [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Wednesday, July 27th, 2011
“These Are the Rules” by Diane Klammer
Diane Klammer THESE ARE THE RULES What matters most is how well you walk through the fire. —Charles Bukowski The whole world may be burning around you, but you have knowingly chosen this. You must confront the blizzard with a tattered umbrella. These are the rules. You must stop the gaping head wound with only [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Audio,Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Tuesday, July 26th, 2011
“A Language” by Robert King
Robert King A LANGUAGE Today the sky is blue dust and the mountains blue shadows against the dust so only the snow line across the peaks actually exists, a scribbled white cursive, words piling up here and thinning out there, like the long sentence you’d write against the sky if you thought you had that [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Monday, July 25th, 2011
BORROWED WORLD by Maggie Paul
Review by Lynn Levin BORROWED WORLD by Maggie Paul Hummingbird Press 2299 Mattison Lane Santa Cruz, CA 95062-1821 ISBN 13 978-0-9792567-6-9 2011, 72 pp., $15.00 http://www.skyhighway.com/~hummingbirdpress I love many things about Borrowed World, California poet Maggie Paul’s first full-length collection, but what I love best is the gentleness and patience with which she addresses often [...]
No Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Sunday, July 24th, 2011
“The Professors’ Wives” by Christopher Kempf
Christopher Kempf THE PROFESSORS’ WIVES At the lecture on the aesthetics of Renaissance sculpture, they sit there like their own kind of statuary, that unique New England style combining tweed and Talbots, Lands End and the repression of whatever it is they are actually thinking. If he was living now, and not in whatever century [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Saturday, July 23rd, 2011
“The Miscarriage” by Courtney Kampa
Courtney Kampa THE MISCARRIAGE What I remember is how my mother used her entire body to yank the gear of our red jeep into park, and then turned around in her seat to say she’d only be a minute; wait quietly. She rolled my window down, but forgot to close her door which made the [...]
2 Comments » - Posted in Audio,Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Friday, July 22nd, 2011
“Avante-Garde” by Courtney Kampa
Courtney Kampa AVANTE-GARDE A man slouches before a uni-colored canvas with the perplexity of a stumped technician gaping at the unremittingly blank screen of a television. He adjusts his stance, a double antenna, in search for reception. Its artist has spread the blackest paint—probably in fistfuls with her bare hands—until every inch was filled, or [...]
