Category / Issue #24 June 2013

June, 2013 – featuring Nin Andrews, Rae Armantrout, Denise Duhamel, Stuart Dybek, Amy Gerstler, Juan Felipe Herrara, Mark Jarman, Kimberly Johnson, Christopher Kennedy, Ricardo Pau-Llosa, John Skoyles, and Terese Svoboda. Featured Selection by Rachel Hadas. Art by Robaldo Enrique Rodriguez.

Two Poems

My Last Deidre after Frank O’Hara   I am a not woman.  I am an orgasm. An orgasm of life. Why? I dunno.  I would rather be a woman, but I am not.  I am not like my friend, Deirdre.


It’s difficult not to be sentimental   about the sun at first,   or when it first slides out   from between clouds   and we say it has “returned”.   But I should back up and explain   to

Danger: A Triptych

I thought at first it was a rock, a pebble my own tire had somehow kicked up in a weird curve.  I kept driving to my safe parking garage and, sure enough, the dimple, the valley, the chipped paint right


1 Five blank days of snow, and then a sunset fills feeders emptied of thistle seed with the glow of vacuum tubes.   2 Without the golden weight of finches, radiant columns sway from the white silhouette of a black

The Suicide’s Wife

inhabits an invisible island of last ditch attempts and ancient consolations where geyers belch thermal vents hiss messengers of silence arrive   she swam ashore nearly naked hands scraped raw on coral bra and panties soaked through sand in her

Even the Gun Does Not Want to …

It denies the polish Its seablood sculpted elegance the weight in blue machine It ignores its howl if only it could truly sing If only it knew more than one long word Of one long dismembered song     Juan

Aunt Rolla

She had the softest face She treated it with ointment She’d had smallpox as a girl I remember how kind she was   She treated her face with ointment You could see the pits and craters I remember how kind she

Big Finish

Now that the last shaft of sunset has collapsed into that rubble of cloud, let’s dust off and see how bright the stars are, the disclosed vault spinning like a discoball been drilled smack into Polaris. My oracle’s a bullhorn

Confusing Myself with the Whip…

Today, I was a madness of regrettable actions. At the convenience store, I eyed the cashiers warily as they slouched in round-shouldered, teen-aged aplomb. Their youth not yet wasted. Try not to think was my mantra as I left through


            after the painting “Thetis (Aquarium)” by Robaldo Rodríguez   We see her through her element, not in it, a face of harvest and sand gazing upon a crypt of waters, fish jotting the tight firmament.  The water bends her

Coal Bin

Some witchy and slinky, ready to coo on a pillow,   others nun-like, eyes open with the wonder of a startled   sleepwalker—all bluntly bare. My uncle stashed his harem   of goddess statues in our coal bin   where

The Injured Future

Far left cluster the listeners, their heads lifted toward the speaker. Two boys tease a dog in the foreground near a horse with a raised hoof. The speaker holds his finger to the sky.   The fly over the horse’s


By way of introduction to this month’s “Featured Selection,” first a brief appreciation of Rachel Hadas’s new book of poetry The Golden Road, from the NY Times Book Review, followed by an email interview with the poet conducted recently, the