Archive for August, 2011
Sunday, August 21st, 2011
“Hospital, Spring” by Gwenn A. Nusbaum
Gwenn A. Nusbaum HOSPITAL, SPRING Day opens, clouds release their grip, light the color of turnips, escaping. A man reads a newspaper as though his wife’s surgery will turn up on one of the pages. He holds the paper like a shield. The nurses keep their distance. You can’t see it from this angle, but [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Saturday, August 20th, 2011
TONY GLOEGGLER GREATEST HITS 1984 – 2009 by Tony Gloeggler
Review by James E. Allman TONY GLOEGGLER GREATEST HITS 1984 – 2009 by Tony Gloeggler Pudding House Publishing 81 Shadymere Lane Columbus, OH 43213 ISBN 1-58998-825-6 2009, 32 pp., $12.00 www.puddinghouse.com Plain and simple, “1969.” I knew nothing of Tony Gloeggler except that solitary poem, which I first read on Rattle’s blog a few months [...]
3 Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Friday, August 19th, 2011
“The Contest” by Andrew Nurkin
Andrew Nurkin THE CONTEST Most mornings, even in the wet starvation covering everything after the third snow in ten days, and for reasons I suspect but am in no position to confirm, my neighbor comes out back to piss on his garbage can in the [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Thursday, August 18th, 2011
“Early Snow” by Harry Newman
Harry Newman EARLY SNOW I put on my gloves, the ones whose seams have burst that you think I should get rid of. But I like them, the brown cracked leather and fur lining coming out in a few places. It’s snowing and I want to see it: the first snow and an early one. [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Wednesday, August 17th, 2011
“Branches” by William Neumire
William Neumire BRANCHES My wife wants a magnolia tree, but only in full bloom when pink teacups drip from its discursive branches. Hegel says this hive of petals only exists because I’m here in front of the neighbor’s yard looking at it. But also, that I only exist because my neighbor’s looking at me uncomfortably [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Tuesday, August 16th, 2011
“Have You Seen My Son” by Peter Nash
Peter Nash HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON? Have you seen my son? He is everywhere. You have seen him on the Metro stair, at the Greyhound Station, in the park beside the fountain, you have seen my son. His dark eyes stare, his chicken hand, his lanky hair, the reddened nose, the soiled vest, the [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Monday, August 15th, 2011
JUNIPER by Nancy Takacs
Review by Katie Kingston JUNIPER by Nancy Takacs Limberlost Press 17 Canyon Trail Boise, Idaho 83716 ISBN 0-931659-60-4 2010, 26pp., $15.00 www.limberlostpress.com Once again Limberlost Press has lived up to its reputation in bringing to the foreground a poet who emerges with a fresh voice, as well as a deep understanding of western landscape and [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in E-Reviews by Megan
Sunday, August 14th, 2011
“Where Do You Go?” by Glenn Morazzini
Glenn Morazzini WHERE DO YOU GO? Raising a shroud of dust in the dirt driveway, relatives drove over soon as they heard: Mary Ann, the one they nicknamed Maysie, thrown from the back of a colliding motorcycle. Snapped necklace of her nineteen-year-old bones. But John, her father, wanted nothing of the praying and cursing, air [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Saturday, August 13th, 2011
“Old Blue” by Devon Miller-Duggan
Devon Miller-Duggan OLD BLUE for my father A thing that’s named “Old Blue” should be a dog, some flop-earred, lazy hound. Your Blue was just a car. Okay, not just a car—an Oldsmobile from back before we believed fuel was scarce, from back when men made cars for men with lots of kids and fathers [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Audio,Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Friday, August 12th, 2011
“The Invisible Life” by Michael Miller
Michael Miller THE INVISIBLE LIFE My very old dog continually licks The floor for crumbs that are Not there, the instinct to live Drives his bent body from stove To sink to table. He is trying to lick The invisible life from the floor As he wobbles from room to room Before his crooked legs [...]
