Latte Archives

Fall 2014 Issue

Danse Macabre By Susan Thomas

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
Again, the raccoons got it all, the corn,
frilly and long-limbed, so full of silken
rattle in the sideways-shifting wind….

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Dinner in the Branicki Palace By Susan Thomas

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
We stroll under beech trees,
all elegance and pleasure,
our fat babies in their lacy
bonnets, their fancy prams
just the same as Polish babies….

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Hamlet as Rhinestone Cowboy By Cody Todd

In a parking-lot made of dust and stones at Yorrick-Deuce’s,
y’all kiss as still as cacti hidden in your ex-
husband’s front seat. His ghost hovers the mechanical-

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Azzuro della Magna By Katharine VanDewark

When the trumpet bellows
a platoon of fountain pens leap out of bed
lace up their high top boots and stand at attention….

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Singing By Sara Wallace

A woman in the kitchen in a stained bathrobe
singing, her voice raspy as blowing leaves,
singing, her voice dry but the song sloshing, filling the illuminated room….

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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….

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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,…

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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….

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