Archive for August, 2011
Wednesday, August 31st, 2011
“Why I Am Not a Taxidermist” by Lauren Schmidt
Lauren Schmidt WHY I AM NOT A TAXIDERMIST I am not a taxidermist, I am afraid of John Wayne. A guest at Uncle’s house, I slept in The John Wayne Room. It was called The John Wayne Room as if a room such as this could have another name: a life-size cardboard form of John [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Tuesday, August 30th, 2011
DIWATA by Barbara Jane Reyes
Review by Jessica Varin DIWATA by Barbara Jane Reyes BOA Editions, Ltd. 250 North Goodman Street, Suite 306 Rochester, NY 14607 ISBN 978-1934414378 2010, 88 pp., $16.00 www.boaeditions.org Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to speak my mother’s first language. Would I seem more Chinese and less white? Would I feel less fractionated? [...]
2 Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Monday, August 29th, 2011
“This Time We’ll Go to Kentucky Fried Chicken” by Laura Read
Laura Read THIS TIME WE’LL GO TO KENTUCKY FRIED CHICKEN for Tom You were the one with the body that could balance on a skateboard, dive into a pool, the water closing behind you. And you could hold your breath at the bottom, watch the sunlight shatter on the tile. [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Megan
Sunday, August 28th, 2011
“One True Poem” by Doug Ramspeck
Doug Ramspeck ONE TRUE POEM The deer this time of year are gray. I see them near the railroad tracks. What I like about them is how they flee at the first sign they are observed. But the one today is full-sized, on its side in the bar ditch, with a white belly, its neck [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Saturday, August 27th, 2011
“This Poem Is Not About Me” by Renee Podunovich
Renee Podunovich THIS POEM IS NOT ABOUT ME Because not everything I write is about myself. I used the word “she” not “me.” “he” not “you.” this is fiction. made up. which is different than fantasy. that myopia that funnels the infinite potential of awareness through a skinny garden hose into a blow-up kiddie pool [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Friday, August 26th, 2011
“Body Memory” by Joel Peckham
Joel Peckham BODY MEMORY Once, a boy, out walking the access road along Route 1, I watched a woman jump (or was she pushed) from a moving truck, her body spun into fields of tall grass and gravel. And when she rose, holding her head in her hands, bleeding, standing, she came up slow. Unfolding. [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Audio,Poems by Timothy Green
Thursday, August 25th, 2011
ARDOR by Karen An-hwei Lee
Review by Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum ARDOR by Karen An-hwei Lee Tupelo Press PO Box 1767 North Adams, MA 01247 ISBN 978-1-932195-69-9 2008, 72 pp., $16.95 www.tupelopress.org Karen An-hwei Lee’s second collection of poems, Ardor (Tupelo Press, 2008), is a book length sequence of fragments connected ellipses and interwoven with brief, surreal blocks of prose in sections [...]
No Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Wednesday, August 24th, 2011
“Rare Architecture” by Matthew Olzmann
Matthew Olzmann RARE ARCHITECTURE An ordinary man hires a contractor to build a new house. When it’s done, he rushes to see it. But it’s not what he’s paid for, there must be some mistake. The house is shaped like a human head. Two eyes instead of bay windows. A circular mouth for a doorway. [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Tuesday, August 23rd, 2011
from A Conversation with William O’Daly
from A CONVERSATION BETWEEN WILLIAM O’DALY AND ALAN FOX … FOX: You pay a lot of attention to the musicality of the poem. Can you say more about that? O’DALY: Well, some people—in fact I’m reading a book right now on the line, the poetic line—believe that what poetry is is the sound of poetry. [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Conversations by Timothy Green
Monday, August 22nd, 2011
“To the Antiphonist” by William O’Daly
William O’Daly TO THE ANTIPHONIST after Odysseas Elytis Neither cloud nor dream can exist in words— not even the olive tree, silvery, and in winter, slate blue. The light of an extinguished star no longer guides our destiny, indivisible, unseen, even as it empties the sky. Navigating by the rose, we steer without pause through [...]
