PSH: Poets of the Week

Bio (auto)

Steven Kunert lives in Corvallis, Oregon and teaches at Oregon State University. He has published poetry and prose for over 30 years in publications such as The Starving Artist Times, Dude, Rio Grande Review, The Oregonian, and more recently in Word Riot, decomP, Six Sentences, American Satellite Magazine, Poetry Super Highway (December 2008) and Fogged Clarity (forthcoming February 2010).

My Day at Medical School

My cold back
flat against the steel table,
the doctor’s hand reaches
into my bisected torso
to show the interns
a spleen, today’s special topic.

This spleen, the doctor says
was normal and healthy
at the time of death,
unlike the organ
to soon be viewed
in the cadaver
over there.

My superstar spleen
is passed around
as the doctor discusses
its splendid traits.

An intern nearly fumbles
my spleen
onto my frigid nose.
Others giggle
as a colleague compares it
to something he once
ate in Sri Lanka.

Looking for signs
from a life,
the doctor cups my heart
in his hands.

Farida Samerkhanova
farida203@yahoo.com

Bio (auto)

I live in Toronto, Ontario. During the years 2007-2009 my poems, short stories and essays were published by Canadian Stories; Inscribed~A Magazine for Writers; The Maynard; Ygdrasil, A Journal of the Poetic Arts; blueskiespoetry.ca, Danse Macabre (including Totentanze, All Saints’ Evening and Weihnachtsmarkt issues), Seeding the Snow (The illustration is also my credit), The Write Place at the Write Time, Calliope (Issue #125 – Fall 2009), Word Salad Poetry Magazine, Tower Poetry, Of(f)Course – A Literary Journal, The Recusant (the UK) and LanguageandCulture.net. Some of my poems were included in The Maynard Anthology 2008 (Canada), the collection of poetry “Immortal Verses” (USA) and in “Favourite Memories” book of poetry (the UK). New pieces are accepted for issue #130 of Zigote in my Coffee (due out January 25, 2010), Other Clutter, Canadian Immigrant Magazine and Calliope (Winter 2010 issue).

In my Home City

The rock in the middle
Of the knotted carpet
Woven of yellow leaves
Witnessed history.

The great dancer
Might have touched it
In his childhood
Long before
Paris, Grand Opera
And AIDS
Happened.

I closed my eyes.
The wind touched my face
With the veil of
Glory and eternity.