Category Archives: Poetry

This is the effect of reciting the lover’s name as heard by the lover. This is not pride because I know it is not my name that you whisper but a sign between us, like the word that was spoken … Continue reading →

A tale of two endings. Alden Nowlan. “The Bull Moose” collected in Selected Poems with introduction by Susan Musgrave. When the wardens came, everyone agreed it was a shame to shoot anything so shaggy and cuddlesome. He looked like the … Continue reading →

Allen Ginsberg “Please Master” (1968) collected in Angels of the Lyre edited by Winston Leyland. This is the beginning: Please master can I touch your cheek please master can I kneel at your feet please master can I loosen your … Continue reading →

Harryette Mullen. Recyclopedia: Trimmings, S*PeRM**K*T, and Muse & Drudge At one point in Trimmings there is a set of pages with on the left a passage dealing with slips which culminates in Freudian ones and on the right is a … Continue reading →

Robin Becker. “Salon”. Domain of Perfect Affection. These lines come at the end of a poem detailing the regular visits to the salon for manicure and shampoo and cut. The voice we are to take is that of the lesbian … Continue reading →

Joanne Page. Watermarks. “Mark You” in the sequence “A Brief History of Snow”. to cold. Their language lives. Last year they made two snow words into silajua pigalavja meaning ozone layer. This year both are in grave danger. Both? Words … Continue reading →

You may never have slept in a tent. May never have looked up to the night sky. But you can enter into the imagination of poet who imagines a boy who does. she laughs, her red hair ripples as it … Continue reading →

Sujata Bhatt. Brunizem. “The Women of Leh are such —” The appearance of Stein in this poem seems mysterious until one discovers that the dedicatee was a translator of the correspondence between Sherwood Anderson and Gertrude Stein. The poem is … Continue reading →

Stupendous ending. “At the Official Function, Captain Green” in Mark Waldron The Brand New Dark. my butter mouth that pushed them into the world. What doesn’t melt… And so for day 1651 21.06.2011

Mark Waldron. The Brand New Dark. There are two poems that could be companion pieces because of their use of extended conceit. One animates sheets; the other, turns a bathtub into a sled. The Sheets and Pillowcases in this place, … Continue reading →