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Jane Ellen Glasser
Jane Ellen Glasser’s poetry has appeared in journals, such as Hudson Review, Southern Review, Virginia Quarterly Review, and Georgia Review. In the past she reviewed poetry books for the Virginian-Pilot, edited poetry for the Ghent Quarterly and Lady Jane’s Miscellany, and co-founded the nonprofit arts organization and journal New Virginia Review. A first collection of her poetry, Naming the Darkness, with an introduction by W. D. Snodgrass, was issued by Road Publishers in 1991. She won the Tampa Review Prize for Poetry 2005 for Light Persists and The Long Life won the Poetica Publishing Company Chapbook Contest in 2011. The Red Coat, published in 2013, is available from FutureCycle Press, which also published the chapbook Cracks in 2015. Her full-length poetry collection “In the Shadow of Paradise” has been accepted by FutureCycle Press and will be available in 2017. Her work may be previewed on her website: www.janeellenglasser.com
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Jane Ellen Glasser and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Why claim the whole orchard
One is enough for a treatise
we who were schooled by Eve,
Cezanne swore he’d astonish
How to Ripen
Picked green, sour, odorless, hard,
place Bartlett pears
infiltrate one ripe kiwifruit
like a Cezanne painting, lay peaches
let a banana and avocado on the counter
in a straw basket, watch passion
Oh, what propinquity and climacteric
Angele Ellis lives in Friendship, both a Pittsburgh neighborhood and a state of mind. Her poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in over fifty publications and ten anthologies. She is author of Arab on Radar (Six Gallery Press), Spared (A Main Street Rag Editors’ Choice Chapbook), and a forthcoming collection of poetry and flash fiction inspired by her adopted city.
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Angele Ellis and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Heart of Glass
All that blighted August, I cursed the mugger heat of Philadelphia,
My legs were slick from a slog to McSorley’s—landmark bar loved
Back to the quotidian grind. I was a tech writer or doc specialist,
So young, but I rarely felt it, stopping after work on South 13th Street
on a chest like a lost Greek statue. Remember: all this happened