Archive for November, 2011
Monday, November 21st, 2011
Odi et Amo – Hate and Love and the Poet’s Soup by Art Beck
THE IMPERTINENT DUET:: TRANSLATING POETRY WITH ART BECK #2: ODI ET AMO – HATE AND LOVE AND THE POET’S SOUP I. For those who’d rather avoid reading a treatise on the Latin classics—relax. That’s not where this is going, at least not where I intend it to go. This is going to be an exploration [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Essays by Timothy Green
Sunday, November 20th, 2011
THE MONSTER LOVES HIS LABYRINTH by Charles Simic
Review by Jason Tandon THE MONSTER LOVES HIS LABYRINTH by Charles Simic Ausable Press (Copper Canyon Press) Copper Canyon Press PO Box 271 Port Townsend WA 98368 ISBN-10 1931337403 2008, 128 pp., $14.00 www.coppercanyonpress.org Charles Simic’s The Monster Loves His Labyrinth, a seemingly random collection of notebook entries and sketches, achieves a singular theme: an [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in E-Reviews by Timothy Green
Saturday, November 19th, 2011
“The Dirigible” by Kenneth O’Keefe
Kenneth O’Keefe THE DIRIGIBLE He tilted back his head to lift his nose, That looked down on my feature’s shining greeting. This future in-law to my daughter chose To use this time for our initial meeting To flaunt he is a more accomplished man. A trial lawyer, his wealth and status showed He rose above [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Friday, November 18th, 2011
“Arrangement” by Missy-Marie Montgomery
Missy-Marie Montgomery ARRANGEMENT Put a few words together prettily and it’s possible to fall in love. Move your hand slightly and I’m yours. Or gone. And think of what can be done with flowers or paint. I take back what I said in my message yesterday, the one saying I had printed and folded each [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Thursday, November 17th, 2011
“Onions” by Gabrielle Mittelbach
Gabrielle Mittelbach ONIONS We ran out of onions again. I searched the racks in the fridge and in the drawers and in the cabinets and in the basket on the counter which offered only dry white skins as useless and discarded as a basket of fingernail clippings. Someone once said the mind is like an [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Wednesday, November 16th, 2011
“The Annual Officers’ Club Party…” by Lorraine Merrin
Lorraine Merrin THE ANNUAL OFFICERS’ CLUB PARTY SUDDENLY COMES TO LIFE Late Summer 1973 Women in cocktail dresses feign interested politeness as their men wheel and deal. She glides into the room like honeysuckle [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Tuesday, November 15th, 2011
WHAT TO TELL JOSEME by Lianne Spidel
Review by David Lee Garrison WHAT TO TELL JOSEME by Lianne Spidel Main Street Rag Publishing PO Box 690100 Charlotte, NC 28227 ISBN 978-1-59948-307-8 2011, 76 pp., $14 www.MainStreetRag.com Joseme is the poet’s imaginary companion from childhood. She imagines Joseme coming back, “hair streaky or plain gray as befits / the grandmother you may be,” [...]
4 Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Timothy Green
Monday, November 14th, 2011
“Repair” by Nina Lindsay
Nina Lindsay REPAIR The rain showers won’t stop returning, as if someone needs to make a decision. Haggard doves and delivery vans prowl around morning’s scene of general disaster. At the café we don’t really pay attention, we are reading the East Bay Living section, the comics, the reviews, the April travel ads. Every now [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Sunday, November 13th, 2011
“New Year’s Day 2005″ by Gary Lemons
Gary Lemons NEW YEAR’S DAY 2005 for Sam 1 I walk the streets today as I have so Often in the last thirty three years. It’s an arbitrary number to look back to A place to start counting but my number Nonetheless—thirty three years, the years of Jesus, that good, [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems by Timothy Green
Saturday, November 12th, 2011
“Iraqi Musician” by Melissa Lamberton
Melissa Lamberton IRAQI MUSICIAN It has been still and hot all day, with spates of rain unexpected and astonishing. But now the wind comes spinning round, as if the song calls it. He plays an oud, ten double strings, fingers tracing the chords. Leaves blow, gold and bronzed, lighting a whirlwind of fire. Heavy and [...]
