A thought was captured, rodeoed and lassoed into submission. The thought sat awhile- Later, it was rejected.
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A thought was captured, rodeoed and lassoed into submission. The thought sat awhile- Later, it was rejected.
The post Reject | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry.
Go to Source
Author: Best Poetry Online
David Barber from LET ME COUNT THE WAYS: 22 TAKES ON THE POETICS OF LISTS [1] AMMONS, A. R. [Broadside]: Shit List; or, Omnium-gatherum of Diversity into Unity [Winston-Salem, North Carolina]: Privately Printed for Stuart Wright, 1979. Price: $300.00 Unbound. Broadside. Measuring 7” x 16”. A bit of faint creasing else fine. Only 30 copies printed; printed as…
Deep beneath the dark, vast ocean blue I grew weary, drowning- in thoughts of you… So like the Phoenix, soaring on high I too shall soar, shall touch the sky In search of hope In search of light I too will rise- beyond the night… More at https://www.facebook.com/beneaththemoonlight/. The post Beyond the Night | Lynn…
Jill Jones was born in Sydney and has lived in Adelaide since 2008. Her latest book is Acrobat Music: New and Selected Poems, published in 2023. Other recent books include Wild Curious Air, winner of the 2021 Wesley Michel Wright Prize, A History Of What I’ll Become, shortlisted for the 2021 Kenneth Slessor Award and…
Deconstruction relies on the flipping of binaries. “Losing is winning. Crime is justice. Rape is love. Death is life.” No wonder the new Jacobins hate Orwell. from Lee Smith, “The Global Empire of Palestine,” in Tablet, December 19, 2023 The salient fact is that the crushing military defeat suffered by the Palestinians will hardly matter,…
I live in a wooden house I cannot turn on the fireplace ’cause I may burn the walls Winter has already come and the snow covered my garden and cold froze the neighbor’s water well I look through the window and wait for you to come home I’m so cold and I can’t feel the…
He’s a firecracker, a wild wailing bundle thrashing at his mama’s side, and I wish I could walk up and talk sense, give him my fatherly or grandfatherly, or even god-fatherly look, but that’s not okay these days, so I just watch my cup shake on the table as he throws himself a nice fit….