Joan E. Bauer: The Poet of the Camera
By 1922, chief cameraman, eagerly
innovating: gauze over the lens to soften a face,
frame of black velvet to darken the eyes.
Rose Mary Boehm: Sunsets on Mars are Blue
We’ll soon be sending settlers to Mars.
They’ll be sitting on their porches contemplating
the Martian sunsets.
Richard Hoffman: Uncle and the Donkey Cart
One day Uncle came upon a donkey and cart, driverless, stopped in the road.
Lisa Zimmerman: Florida Storm
By the time a soft wind arrives from the sea
it has ruffled the fur of hundreds of mammals
James Crews: Thank You for Everything
Walking the roads after a snowstorm,
he put out an arm to stop me
as three deer streamed down the hill
Video: “Mauches” by Angele Ellis
I never learned la bella lingua except
to write you one letter in schoolgirl Italian
from college, a letter you loved so much
it fell into sharp creases
Elizabeth Romero: Coffeehouse
Small latte to go he says
As a shaker claps against itself
Voices murmur around like gentle waves at the beach
Christine Rhein: Beware
The noise
of your neighbor starting up his blower,
his whirring just a giant lie.
Al Maginnes: The Body’s Cartographer
I’ve been lucky enough to steer clear of pain that squats
like the friend you no longer like but can’t evict
from your couch because he’s out of work, but able
to be drunk every day you walk in the door.
Pascale Petit: The Lammergeier Daughter
That night, I opened your wardrobe and found
a trophy of vultures, their necks pierced
by hanger hooks. I saw at once
that you hunted everything I loved
Chard deNiord: Grief is the River with a Foreign Name
Grief is the river with a foreign name
that floods your heart, pulling you in
with a musical force you can’t resist
Barbara Hamby: Ode to the Sacred Heart of Everyone, Including You and You and You
Hey, Catholics, what is it with that red heart out there
beating on Jesus’ chest like some Frankenstein
experiment gone bad
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: With Astonishing Tenderness
when you wake
and see clearly all the places you’ve failed,
in that moment, when dreams will not return,
this is the chance for your softest voice—
the one you reserve for those you love most
Philip Terman: Meeting the Swami
“Throw your karma in my basket,” it said.
