On:

a masculine marmaladeour feline bathesbetween his toesmore assiduouslythan anyone we knowclaws flexingto and frolike translucent crescent moonscored by conquered bloodthe rasping strokeof his scouring tonguea ferocity pristineas raindrops or water hoseamong the wieldedyielding thornsof this bucephalus-headed rose. My name is Aletha Irby and I have been writing poetry for overContinue Reading

On:

I got wine drunk in the Holiday Inn Notre Damewith a view of the Eiffel Towerput on Brahms Symphony #1 in C Minor and was back in my British History classroomon an August night in 1982on the second floor of Alumni Recitation Hall working out ways to includeEnglish Beat andContinue Reading

On:

Stay close to any sounds thatmake you glad to be alive. Hafiz through the morningstill silenced by darknessyour sudden eruptionallegroarpeggioappoggiaturajoyful enoughto resurrect icarusto enjoin him nidicolousto soar forth once againairborne on wingéd rhapsodyoh songbirdyou remind usthat we can never flytoo close to the sunand i too risefledged by your warblingwhichContinue Reading

On:

It is an old story of disfunction.While I see the beauty of a crowthat has an ugly voicebut a wonderful wing spreadundulating shadows in the sky,controlling the sun’s lightfalling to earth,its feathers holding the air,you see only a bird. Lynette G. Esposito, MA Rutgers, has been published in Poetry Quarterly,Continue Reading

On:

Hello, Helen.Helen Harlot, Helen Home-Wrecker, Helen Whore. Most beautiful woman in the world, hatched from a swan’s egg, product of yet another rape perpetrated by your divine slut of a father, the “omnipotent” thunderer. His many bedfellows tell a different story.In all the myths, you are glittering, resplendent. And always,Continue Reading