March 14-20, 2016: Bruce Taylor and Kayli Wren

​Bruce Taylor and Kayli Wren

Send us your poetry for POET OF THE WEEK consideration. Click here for submission guidelines.


​Bruce Taylor
taylorb@uwec.edu

Bio (auto)

​Bruce Taylor, Poet Laureate of Eau Claire, Wisconsin, is the author of eight collections of poetry, including The Longest You’ve Lived Anywhere: New & Selected Poems 2013 and editor of eight anthologies including Wisconsin Poetry (Wisconsin Academy of Science, Arts & Letters), and with Patti See, Higher Learning, (Prentice Hall 3rd ed.) 2011. His poetry has appeared in such places as Able Muse, The Chicago Review, The Cortland Review, The Nation, The New York Quarterly, Poetry, Poetry Super Highway, Rattle, Rosebud and on the Writer’s Almanac.

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by ​Bruce Taylor and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Another Poem You Try to Read

but wake in a surprising shade,
your glasses still on barely
and the book spread open
across your grumbling belly.

The cat in a coma across your feet
the dog dreaming in the coming chill
fridge whining, furnace complaining,
the pine outside your window still

last you knew full of morning and song,
a long shadow leading to a setting sun.
The last line you read you try in
the gathered dusk to read again.

 

 



Kayli Wren
kwren@students.stab.org

Bio (auto)

Kayli Wren is a seventeen year old from Charlottesville, Virginia. She has previously been published in Teen Ink, Literary Orphans, Tupelo Press Teen Writing Center’s Crossroads III, and the 2015 Kenyon Review Young Writers Workshop’s Anthology. She received the Arthur C. Green Rising Star Award for her creative writing and has recently been developing her love for writing poetry. She writes to capture the snapshots of our lives, to expose the nuances of life and the cosmos compiled therein. She writes to accept, reject and make sense of our world. She writes to acknowledge rawness and pain and beauty, to appreciate every element, scarred and fragile, of our existence.

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Kayli Wren and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


Junkyard

When the music was turned loud enough
There was a crackling behind the notes
Added to the noise of rubber spinning itself down highways

Children in car seats counted fading yellow dashes
With noses pressed against car windows

Three year olds wore pink princess slippers
Pre-teens wore headphones

Spilled nail polish and drops of gin
Cracked rearview window from teenage football games
And the deer in rut who leapt into roads

Cigarette smoke left yellow patterns
Against the ceiling
Residue on windows from stick figures
And hearts finger-painted into morning dew

Family vacations left sun screen
And pool noodles in the back
Canoes and bike racks overhead

Batter starter lies beside an empty
Graham cracker box
Mad libs and tennis shoes caked with mud

Weeds grow around engines and the oil pan
Wild flowers spread across overnight bags
For nightcaps

Hillocks form over Volvos and jeeps
Discarded heaps of metal
Hold shadows of people
And the stories they wrote