The Blade of Nostalgia Chase Twichell, 1950 When fed into the crude, imaginary machine we call the memory, the brain’s hard pictures slide into the suggestive waters of the counterfeit. They come out glamorous and simplified, even the violent ones, even the ones that are snapshots of fear. Maybe those costumed, clung-to fragments are the […]
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Right Here Waiting
Right Here Waiting Written by Richard Marx Oceans apart day after day And I slowly go insane I hear your voice on the line But it doesn’t stop the pain If I see you next to never How can we say forever Wherever you go Whatever you do I will be right here waiting for […]
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Dawn at St. Patrick’s
Dawn at St. Patrick’s BY DEREK MAHON There is an old statue in the courtyard that weeps, like Niobe, its sorrow in stone. The griefs of the ages she has made her own. Her eyes are rain-washed but not hard, her body is covered in mould, the garden overgrown. One by one the first lights […]
My Everything
My Everything © Dean Coombes Published on February 2013 You’re my love, my life The air that I breathe You’re my soul, my happiness The all that I need You’re my light, my dark The stars in the sky You’re my ups, my downs The reason I try You’re my strength, my weakness The love […]
Crash Course in Semiotics
Crash Course in Semiotics BY LUCIA PERILLO 1. “Naked woman surrounded by police”: that’s one way to start the poem. But would she mean anything devoid of her context, in this case a lushly late-August deciduous forest, some maple, mostly oak? She carries no prop—for example, no bike chain, which the cops could be […]
Again
Again BY ROSS GAY Because I love you, and beneath the uncountable stars I have become the delicate piston threading itself through your chest, I want to tell you a story I shouldn’t but will and in the meantime neglect, Love, the discordant melody spilling from my ears but attend, instead, to this tale, for […]
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I Thank You
Sonnet: I Thank You I thank you, kind and best beloved friend, With the same thanks one murmurs to a sister, When, for some gentle favor, he hath kissed her, Less for the gifts than for the love you send, Less for the flowers, than what the flowers convey; If I, indeed, divine their meaning […]