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Poetry

Spring 2014 Issue

Going to Bed By Jed Myers

First Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
These nights I slip down into sleep
in minutes, freed from a lifelong
ritual, the slow obsessive surrender
of my vigilance….

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 5 Responses

Nude Descending a Staircase (Number 2), 1919 By Timothy Leach

With precision and alacrity, aloof as machinery,
she shucked past selves like shrimp shells,
as down time’s squared steps she came,…

Posted in Poetry | 1 Response

Pennsylvania By Jonathan Greenhause

I’m not thinking of Pennsylvania, but it comes anyway,
popping up in the distance once I’ve travelled far enough,

but it could just as easily be Sri Lanka/Mozambique/Argentina;
if you let yourself go, there’s no telling where you’ll end up;

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The Book of Adolescence By Angela Rydell

Someone is reading her. She lures him
out of childhood just walking past him in the hallway
trailing the scent of open sky, green leaves….

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Dog Trail By Benjamin Busch

On our hill there was a trail to the moon.
Our black dog found it, beat it into the ground with his paws.
It could be supposed that he hated moons,
that his ferocity was more than dutiful….

Posted in Poetry | 13 Responses

Fall 2013 Issue

Toothache By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel,” you said, so I’d gone on alone despite the storm,
the wrong kind of sugar for the all-night drive. I gave up at 1 AM,
ice accreting on the windshield like rock candy on the string…

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Five-Course Noir By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
D.O.A. begins near the end: Frank Bigelow, his blood bright
with luminous toxin, having solved the mystery of his own
murder. The rest is a dead man’s tale, an extended flashback….

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The French Have A Word For It By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
Only in the Mysteries room would
you show me what you’d hidden,
slyly pulling from beneath your shirt
those strawberries…

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As I Walked Into the Middle of the Night Squinting By Lucy Biederman

He says But you don’t know
You kind of love
When someone holds
The night by its toes and
All the adjectives fall out…

Posted in Poetry | 2 Responses

Winter 2013 Issue

Force By Teresa Leo

Third Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
I ask my husband, ever the literalist,
if he missed me before he knew me…

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 2 Responses
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