Saturday, May 29th, 2010
“Foxglove: Digitalis Purpurea” by David Filer
David Filer FOXGLOVE: DIGITALIS PURPUREA Once only a gray-green mat, like the weeds That have survived winter in the bare ground Around the roses. Now some spark has set Them off, their green rocket tips, gently bent Like hemlocks, at five feet and growing Still, trailing plumes of blossoms, white like Snow in shadows, crimson [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Megan
Tuesday, April 27th, 2010
“Psalm for Working Women” by Lynne Thompson
Lynne Thompson PSALM FOR WORKING WOMEN A microwave is my savior; I shall not starve. It alloweth me to eat quickly. It leadeth me to purchase Stouffers in bulk. It restoreth dehydrated onions. It delivers me from pre-heating for pre-heating’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of canned goods, I shall fear no [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Audio,Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Wednesday, April 21st, 2010
“Lion in Suburbia” by Alyce Miller
Alyce Miller LION IN SUBURBIA They spotted him one early gray morning placidly seated by the children’s swingset, over-sized marzipan cat, like a child’s stuffed toy abandoned to the dew— (Pathera leo, you with ratty mane and skeptical look, briefly free of the torments that brought you here, what compromises have you been asked to [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Monday, April 19th, 2010
“In Praise of Laughter” by Ilya Kaminsky
Ilya Kaminsky IN PRAISE OF LAUGHTER Where days bend and straighten in a city that belongs to no nation but all the nations of wind, she spoke the speech of poplar trees— her ears trembling as she spoke, my Aunt Rose composed odes to barbershops, drugstores. Her soul walking on two feet, the soul or [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Timothy Green
Sunday, April 18th, 2010
Rachel Contreni Flynn
Rachel Contreni Flynn THE VIOLET ROOM Small bird in the rafters. Book buried in the hay bales. Harness rotting at the door. The days after my daughter’s birth I spent reading Hemingway in bed. Black flies roosted at the screens and the afternoons were bright: silence blasted in and I held still in the violet [...]
