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Showing posts from October, 2020

Jack-O’-Lantern, a poem by Hiromi Yoshida

                                       Jack-O'-Lantern Jack of all trades, of shivering, shriveling Indiana summer days & nights, the jagged mouth spews forth orange shadows-- grins syrupy candy corn sweetness, the hollowed head a  luminous void, its moist, fibrous, pulpy rind a house for a blackening candle stub--flickering Cinderella, her askew        ballgown petticoats reeking soot & ash--hot molten striptease of dripping wax, the jack-o'-lantern a leering promise of plump, uncouth        autumn days--pumpkin seeds spilling into meat grinders of the fairy-taled imagination. Hiromi Yoshida , one of Bloomington’s finest and most outspoken poets, was a semi-finalist for the 2018 Wilder Series Poetry Book Prize. Her poems have been published in The Indianapolis Review, The Asian American Literary Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, Evergreen...

Pausing for Beauty, a poem by Roger Pfingston

Pausing for Beauty Clawing at leaves to spread and hasten their drying before shredding, I can’t help pausing to marvel at the colors of their demise, a crazy quilt enhanced by the wetness of dew: maple’s red, green’s tenacity, Bradford pear’s purpled curl among the honey locust’s gold, kaleidoscopic sassafras, even the nasty mulch of the early fallen, their oily hues glistening in the tines. What a glorious dying off is this, so unlike flesh and bone’s pale palette. Roger Pfingston is the recipient of a poetry fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts and two PEN Syndicated Fiction Awards. His most recent chapbook, What’s Given , is available from Kattywompus Press. New poems are appearing this year in I-70 Review , U.S. 1 Worksheets , Innisfree Poetry Journal , Dash , Passager and Front Range Review .  

Book-Burning, a poem by Jared Carter

Book-Burning They were convinced, and set about           destroying things That were not pure. They had no doubt           the fire would bring A better world. But soon they found           what is conveyed In books and manuscripts is bound           together, laid  Like corner stones. The more they burned,           the more those who Could still remember sought to learn.           Though they were few. Jared Carter ’s most recent book, The Land Itself, is from Monongahela Books in Morgantown, West Virginia. His collection of new and selected poems, Darkened Rooms of Summer, is available from the University of Nebraska Press.

The sky is falling, a poem by Amy Ash

  The sky is falling Once, the sky dove down and devoured this town. Filmy green light at dusk and the sound of sirens slicing air. The sound is circling, looming. I’m breathing hard now, please let me in. House of straw, house of sticks, house of brick. Under the pressure of breath, it gives. Bramble of branches, bended bough. Trash and broken glass. Carrying kindling in their arms, they insist this is a table, this is a bannister, this is a home. Amy Ash is the author of the full-length collection of poetry The Open Mouth of the Vase , winner of the Cider Press Review Book Award and the Etching Press Whirling Prize. Her poetry, creative nonfiction, and collaborative writing have been published in various journals and anthologies. She is an Assistant Professor of English at Indiana State University, where she directs the Creative Writing Program .