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week of March 19 - 25, 2007
BECOME A POET OF THE WEEK
click. here.for. submission .guidelines
A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo | I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese |
Poetry Super Highway | Judaic Links | Rick's Bookmarks | Cobalt Poets
E-mail Rick | Other Cool Rick Stuff / Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick
Peter Schwartz
pupil@watchtheeye.com
Bio (auto)
Peter Schwartz is the editor of 'eye' and the associate art editor of Mad Hatters' Review. His artwork can be seen all over the Internet but specifically at: www.sitrahahra.com. He has almost 200 poems published in such journals as Porcupine, Vox, and Sein und Werden. Currently he is working on paintings for an exhibit at the Amsterdam Whitney Gallery in Chelsea NYC.
.The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Peter Schwartz and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
four kinds of light
1.
twinkle twinkle
wherever threads tangle
let them be undone
whether by inertia
or incognito
or by catapult
on the whirlette
of almost
2.
twinkle out of
the small coffins
of pathos
that bury
starry creatures
in pyramids
of impossible
reversal
3.
twinkle as
the blindside rosette
and covenant call
for another
green audition
to quiet the
shadow's
shadow
4.
twinkle so
the makeshift
lotus knows.
Joan Cashin
cashin.2@osu.edu
Bio (auto)
I have published in ACORN, INTUITIONS, POETRY MONTHLY, and other journals, and I live in Columbus, Ohio.
The following work is Copyright © 2007, and owned by Joan Cashin and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Wellington, Ohio
Small brick, old brick, red flaking brown and white,
tar paper shining with rain,
as the watchman paces,
waiting, waiting,
in the Midwest, where they must always wait.
Lowcountry
A dove burrows through the twilight
in a long swoop over the sandy yard.
Drowsy with rain, its progress is slow
as the velvet air pushes against the tiny form.The sun swabs the horizon pink
while the sky begins to heave with clouds
indifferent to the defeated house
and the palmettos nurtured to outlast a storm.
A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo | I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese |
Poetry Super Highway | Judaic Links | Rick's Bookmarks | Cobalt Poets
E-mail Rick | Other Cool Rick Stuff / Upcoming Readings | Who The Hell Is Rick