Friday, September 2nd, 2011
“Tavern. Tavern. Church. Shuttered Tavern,” by Patricia Smith
Patricia Smith TAVERN. TAVERN. CHURCH. SHUTTERED TAVERN, then Goldblatt’s, with its finger-smeared display windows full of stifled plaid pinafore and hard-tailored serge, each unattainable thread cooing the delayed lusciousness of layaway, another church then, of course, Jesus pitchin’ a blustery bitch on every other block, then the butcher shop with, inexplicably, the blanched, archaic head [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Timothy Green
Monday, September 20th, 2010
TEAHOUSE OF THE ALMIGHTY by Patricia Smith
Review by Moira Richards TEAHOUSE OF THE ALMIGHTY by Patricia Smith Coffee House Press 27 North Fourth Street, Suite 400 Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA ISBN: 978-1-56689-193-6 2006, 91 pp., $16.00 www.coffeehousepress.org This book hums dozens of different voices, like a crowd in a late night pub. Just as people in the streets of a city, [...]
No Comments » - Posted in E-Reviews by Timothy Green
Friday, July 23rd, 2010
“Birthday” by Patricia Smith
Patricia Smith BIRTHDAY On this bed of chilled steel, I am the morning’s work, your project after coffee and, oh yes, some woman’s son. Whistling to break the ice in the room, you hold most of my head in your hands. Your shaping fingers gently adjust an ear, probe a hollow eye socket, flick chips [...]
No Comments » - Posted in Awards,Poems by Megan
Sunday, February 21st, 2010
“52″ by Patricia Smith
Patricia Smith 52 Baffled by stark ache and symptom, I get in my bed beside the bearded charmer who is yet in my bed. As graying denies and dims me, I vaguely recall the line of whimpering whiners I’ve let in my bed— every one of them goofy with love, dazzled by curve and color, [...]
1 Comment » - Posted in Poems,Tributes by Megan
Saturday, February 6th, 2010
“Ain’t Gonna Play Sun City” by Patricia Smith
Patricia Smith AIN’T GONNA PLAY SUN CITY Sun City Resort, Bophuthatswana, South Africa 1994 Slash on the horizon, shameless throne of skin and gimme, the behemoth relentlessly winks and rises from Bophuthatswana’s dull copper dust. In its wake, roads burp sudden shanties, grimy boys mournfully consider the blur of traffic. Roadside vendors hawk sugarcane, sticks [...]
