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The New York School Diaspora (Part Sixty-Five): Jonathan Riccio [by Angela Ball]
Anne Sexton’s Death, 45 Years Ago Today I don’t smoke but would’ve at your behest. Truth hasn’t the same domesticity mingling a throat. I have a doll theory that explains the orbiters to whom you were malleable: James Wright, Azel Mack, Mary Gray. What’s confession but pull-string? Outlook has downturns in Mississippi, my umbrella sun…
Decade | JD DeHart
It’s been more than a decade I’m still learning how to be still apprentice to myself Still learning that to argue takes you nowhere, just a deserted road of rambling words, thickets of verbiage Still learning that any narrative seems to have the theme of not there yet, developing as the character discovers he or…
Notations | JD DeHart
They assemble, they note they sway in unison. Ask them the ten question quiz, they will smirk. This they do not note. They have no reason, no remark, no railing force to see what words these demarcations attempt to explore. But hand them the right narrative, let them speak the story from depth of soul…
Kathleen O’Toole: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
___________________________________________ Those Reels skip from Billy’s accordion skim the polished floorboards ’til they land up under your heels then swell into a pulse that tips the scales of reticence holding you fast. Into…
Here’s to the End of the Week
Come lift up your glasses and drink what you may, I’m a man you don’t meet every day. I’m a man you don’t meet every day, every day, I’m a man you don’t meet every day! Related Stories “The Stamp of Impulse” [by Stacey Lehman] Go to Source Author: The Best American Poetry
Sunlit Garden Path | Mary Bone
A sunlit garden path, with roses in full bloom. The aroma is heavenly. It is a great place to relax and smell the flowers. The post Sunlit Garden Path | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry Online. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online