I do not scream (on demand) unless I am dropped. Do not drop me; you’d never; I am never dropped. The sad mess is I waddle. I’m not, except the hot smell, but, no, never dropped. I lift the pasta, slap it on my head! My teeth! none. My smile then! Woosh!: I rocket my […]
A very cool production of Sam’s Shepard’s Fool for Love will feature Circus Book’s Tom Bair as one of several poets performing before the play. Performances at the Zoo Theatre, a part of Triskelion Arts 118 N. 11th Street, Brooklyn (Between Berry and Wythe) Off the L train Bedford Avenue stop AUGUST 10, 11, 12 […]
Poem This installment draws down against William Carlos Williams’s Spring and All, specifically, XXI: “The Red Wheelbarrow”. You know this. so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. and so: CounterPoem define this(object) (reference self whole) or (reference not that) define was(subject object) (is past tense) or (used […]
Decision to sing Right here between four wall window brown tree, no sympathy. Unremitting thirst. Think. Do go through step, bread milk gas car party child, real gold is. Listen. Baby intact. Steep price paid each intention/invention , gold from big brain, no one else. Dig. Slippery slop. Truth hidden behind noisy train comin. Listen […]
Poems written by Carolyn Fargnoli Aubade A lost song of morning. If it weren’t for the mockingbirds all night, you’d be rested. You never change & you are lost in winter & I can’t understand what is so wrong & the one-eyed owl hisses in its cage: he can’t see you approach & danger is […]
by Benjamin Nardolilli Only With Myself It was the priest who brought us together, We both laughed at him, When we went to the water without his cross And when we walked back to the hotel To rest without reading his Bible. In the morning I woke And nestled up to you, momma bird, You […]
by lewis levenberg After hiatus, always nice to ease back in with poetry. Poem/CounterPoem takes an out-of-print, public-domain poem and responds to it, also in verse. Today’s comes from Walt Whitman: Poem: Once I pass’d through a populous city imprinting my brain for future use with its shows, architecture, customs, traditions, Yet now of all […]
by lewis levenberg Poem/CounterPoem takes an out-of-print, public-domain poem and responds to it, also in verse. Today’s poem comes from Emily Dickinson: There’s a certain slant of light, Winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes. Heavenly hurt, it gives us; We can find no scar, But internal difference Where the meanings are. […]
by Rachel Javellana Those were the days of the dusty floors, of the cat and his teeth rotting out, the stare of his expectation, the days of walnut wood and hardwood floors and the dust covering it all, the rug days, the salad days, the scratch scratch scratch and see what sparks days, the days […]
