Send us your poetry for POET OF THE WEEK consideration.
Click here for submission guidelines.
John Califano grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and lives in Manhattan where he works helping at-risk parolees transition back into the workforce. He’s worked as a writer, actor, visual artist, and musician, and has performed in clubs, art galleries, feature films and Off-Broadway productions. He recently completed “Notes from Down Under,” a collection of poems, and “Johnny Boy,” a coming-of-age novel. His work is featured in The Broadkill Review, The Willesden Herald’s New Short Stories Series (UK), Adelaide Review, The Writing Disorder, and Embark, an international literary journal for novelists. Visit John on the web here.
The following work is Copyright © 2020, and owned by John Califano and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
I Click Remote
. . . and when the talk shows are over
Jane Ellen Glasser
Jane Ellen Glasser’s poetry has appeared in numerous national 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. She won the Tampa Review Prize for Poetry 2005 for her collection Light Persists, and the Long Life won the Poetica Publishing Company Chapbook Contest in 2011. Her most recent collections, In the Shadow of Paradise (2017) and Jane Ellen Glasser: Selected Poems (2019) are available from FutureCycle Press and Amazon. To preview her work and access her books, visit the website: www.janeellenglasser.com
The following work is Copyright © 2020, and owned by Jane Ellen Glasser and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
In the meadow
The sun glazes
I remove my sweater
Release! says a
I drop my name
Spread wide as a city block,
Last year I watched
After I Die
Don’t open your doors