e c l e c t i c a
p o e t r y
e c l e c t i c a
p o e t r y
Dedicated to the memory of Renée Nicole Good
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)
Poems containing the words caper, glass, beasts, and ivory.
Feel the pressure
lifting and lowering inadvertent, ignorant
of consequence.
Anne Graue
Our kitchen smells like
fresh orange blossoms.
If only for half an hour.
Kenneth Pobo
Broken, broken
And why has nothing been done about it?
Because it's the end of the empire?
Gary Duehr
Some of us are pathogens,
pathogens, pathogens.
Some are warrior pathogens.
Janice D. Soderling
I never said anything
was forever, only hoped
with both hands held tight.
Dan Murphy
A kiss is so much more
than a gathering of lips.
Wally Glickman
The distance between you and what
you illuminate does not matter.
Ashley Mabbitt
Her mother had once told her not to drink "that fake milk shit."
Meg Pograss and Jeff Friedman
Don't use the knob to move the hands,
it mixes up the chimes.
Ruth Bavetta
Shá dóó Asdzóó Nádleeh (Sun and Changing Woman)
I will come to you
and I will cherish you
Tina Harrach Denetclaw
Visiting The Academy Of Sciences With My Five Year Old Son
Regrets over not applying myself
could haunt me
like winning lottery tickets
misplaced.
Bob Bradshaw
it was always about the feet
whatever size color number
of eggs. we were meant to go shoeless.
Wendy Vardaman
My face is grim, betrayed.
She'd promised just
to trim my bangs
Erica Goss
God looks at us
not from up above,
but from a crack
in the changing room wall
Tresha Faye Haefner
Do birds entertain hopes for blessings,
As do children with hymnals taught to sing?
Pramod Lad
In my case
I hope the stone will say, He left 'em with a smile.
Gary D. Grossman
I did not think the word misgendered:
that wasn't available yet.
Sara Eddy
St. Peter Celestine To A Mourning Dove
Your song is like a thousand-petalled sigh
deep in your throat, a golden second-guess
Terence Culleton
you're crazier than mangos and work a normal job
and the dew swells on lawns of houses
that don't even know you exist
Brooks Lampe
fleshy metronomes of arms reach
back
Karen Bramblett
The Making of a Psychotherapist
She was ten years old.
Charles Brice
The guards who patrol the Louvre are hungry
Lani Burshstein
What more
is there to life than coming back to where you
began and having your needs met?
Joel Fry
numberless as
spume white humps
bobbing like
drowned ambulances
Robert Perchan
I cross wet streets
and think of you bringing in damp laundry
in a place you call home
Lakshmi Arya Thathachar
Things I Have Learned Are Also Love
Bells that quiet when touched, lightly. Spoons that have been in mouths of people I love.
Megan Merchant
