Louie Skipper: The Beginning
I keep trying to persuade my father
into a better opinion of me now that he is dead.
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Dirge without Music
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind…
Sharon Fagan McDermott: This Against the Night
Sweet hyssop and the sweltering hives
from which sail bees, their resolute flight
into July, into my garden.
Jay Carson: Michael
On his route with a load of papers on his head,
he wasn’t tough enough to scare Michael
who socked him so hard papers flew
like peace doves all over Fifth Avenue.
Yana Djin: April Elegy
again April is here
with its sun of brass
and its moon of steel
Carolyn Gregory: Leaving the Theatre of Dreams (for Peter)
Tonight I walk through spring sadness, the nostalgia of dreams remembered and foregone, familiar places where we wrote our own epitaph, misspoken lines and rooms seen in the wrong light … Continue reading
John Samuel Tieman: Elegy for a Poet
Michael Castro 1945 – 2018 while the snow wants to melt winter loiters and I will listen I will listen for you when I need a noun a sudden muscle an animal can use to … Continue reading
Philip F. Clark: Lacrimosa
Where I grew up, wakes were a sparring ground— furor was the only defense to grief. Someone had to fight the rant of all those flowers. That is how … Continue reading
John Samuel Tieman: Elegy For A Painter
Gordon Gilchrist Cozumel, 2017 Your death interrupts nothing. Fold the laundry, clean dishes, program a show to tape on Tivo. Load the washing machine again and wonder if there’s … Continue reading
