Amber Decker, Lisette Alonso, and Richard Widerkehr
(the judges of the 2015 Poetry Super Highway Poetry Contest)
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Amber Decker is a thirty-something poet from West Virginia. Her work has been included in the groundbreaking literary e-zine, Exquisite Corpse, as well as other hip venues for alternative writing: Zygote In My Coffee, Phantom Kangaroo, Bone Orchard, Specter, Red Fez, and Black Heart Magazine, to name just a few. She is a lover of horses, hooded sweatshirts, comic books, werewolf movies, good wine, tattoos, and rock and roll. Her latest collection of poems, The Girl Who Left You, is available from California’s notorious Six Ft. Swells Press.
The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Amber Decker and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
For every abortion clinic bombed,
In a gas station bathroom, I sat
For almost two weeks, I dwelled
Names played like a mixtape
Again and again, I replayed the memory
I recalled the sounds
I thought about your face,
At the doctor’s office, I was left to myself
And just like that, it was over,
When I told these things to my mother,
And I will never understand
All I know for certain is that I will never
Lisette Alonso is a south Florida native, she loves the warm Atlantic waters but hates the miles of paved highway she has to travel just to dip her feet in the surf. When she’s not writing poetry, she’s raising children and catching up on two decades worth of missed sleep. On a good day she can do all three with her eyes closed.
The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Lisette Alonso and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Lola keeps kidneys
Mom is obsessed with Doppler radar,
that tell the future five minutes at a time.
at the horizon, but still she thinks
that the wind will whip the cumulous
canopy, hungry and intent on wrenching
the sand off the back of our thighs,
along with her Phil Collin’s CDs
on credit last Christmas, and we ignore
stands sway as Mom insists it’s a passing
to get ripped from our bodies, for our bodies
or the furious tides, or wherever they might land,
Richard Widerkehr won two Hopwood first prizes for poetry at the University of Michigan. Two book-length collections of his poems were published in 2011: The Way Home (Plain View Press) and Her Story of Fire (Egress Studio Press). Tarragon Books published his novel, Sedimental Journey, about a geologist. Recent work has appeared in Rattle, Floating Bridge Review, Northwind Anthology, Poetry Super Highway, and Crack The Spine. Poems are forthcoming in Nomad’s Choir, Clay Bird Review, Soundings, Cirque, Penumbra, and Clover, A Literary Rag. He’s worked as teacher and as a case manager with the mentally ill.
The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Richard Widerkehrr and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Across the fields, small urns
slide by, not your father’s.
every slat, each sway-back barn,
(This poem was featured on-line at Crack The Spine.)
Having read psalms, I remember
afraid.” In 1942, Dad was stationed
buy furniture. “I should’ve been someone else,”
out to dinner in her wheelchair, using money
no matter how many times they’re cut down,