Tag: poetry

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    Bruce Bond

    MANDOLIN after Picasso From a studio apartment, downtown, across the rise and fall of monuments and fortune, you just might see a ball come crashing through an old façade and think, what better place to hang a portrait, and what better art than this: this girl and her mandolin, her abstract flesh pulling at the…

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    Michelle Patton

     ACCIDENTS OF HISTORY This is not about the smell of trees. I will not mention the names of flowers or loam. Loam will not appear in this poem. There is no frost on the barn, no soft snow falling. It never snows in this poem. Only consider an empty field in a neighborhood of tract…

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    Alex Greenberg

    BIRTHDAY PARTY #15: I once spent an entire summer afternoon outside my house on the bay. While the roses were tying knots on the foot­trail and the moss on the ground had begun to form their own islands, I was behind a place mat at my dining room table, contemplating how a teenager is a lot like a red balloon caught to the flagpole of a school or the spokes of a ramshackle bike. The way the two grapple day in and day out with an adversary unfit to listen, too rugged to feel their pull. The way they hold air inside of them as if to prepare for a great outcry, their lungs filling like the stuffing in a toy bear. But what I really think about is how they both rise the instant you let them go. Head­butted by the wind, continuing because of an energy inside of them that knows only upward. I look at the knife on my napkin. I think about how the only way to bring them down is to puncture them. I think of how their red will spatter everywhere. ______________________________________________ Alex Greenberg is a 14 year old aspiring poet.…