“Bees,” “Greenland” & “The Kitchen” by Francine Conley (poetry, ’14)

Three poems with audio by Francine Conley (poetry, ’14) appear in Tinderbox Poetry Journal:

Francine Conley (poetry, ’14)

 

Bees

For the Hive

Those were years I told one man after another sure,

I’d fuck a lug like you, why not.  I looked down the barrel

 

of each rifled gaze because I wanted less to be like a woman

who waits than a man who takes as he pleases, enters a bar,

 

surveys the perennial variety, chooses which one he’ll take

home.  No longing; no loneliness allowed: just action.

. . . continue reading here.

To read “Greenland,” click hereand to read “The Kitchen, click here.

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“Overheard” by Noah Stetzer (poetry, ’14)

A poem by Noah Stetzer (poetry, ’14) appears through Indolent Books:

 

Overheard

t’s okay because I exaggerate
too and say things that I don’t mean, I joke
all the time and it doesn’t mean a thing

I mean most of what I say, I mean you
can take me at my word, cause honesty
you know I mean is what’s been missing all

. . . continue reading here.

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“Drifts,” an excerpt from a new book of poems by Maeve Kinkead (poetry, ’08)

 

Maeve Kinkead (poetry, ’08)

“Drifts,” an excerpt from A Dangling Housea new collection of poems from Maeve Kinkead (poetry, ’08):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[ … purchase a copy of Maeve Kinkaid’s A Dangling House here.]

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“Commuter” & “Map” by Daye Philippo (poetry, ’14)

Two poems by Daye Phillippo (poetry, ’14) appear in Mad River Review:

 

Commuter

On my way home after teaching a night class,

driving through lengths of fog like tulle

 

illusion of time travelling fast. Headlights

reflecting  back, veil after veil, years

 

illusion of time travelling fast. Headlights

reflecting  back, veil after veil, years

. . . continue reading both poems here.

 

 

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“Under Glass” by Karen Tucker (fiction, ’10)

A story by Karen Tucker (poetry, ’10) appears in Tin House:

 

Under Glass

The evening’s downpour still hadn’t ended, and by the time Viktor picked me up, the streets were abandoned except for a few lonesome figures tucked under awnings and into doorways. The boulevard gleamed under the streetlamps. Viktor’s mood must have been affected by the weather, because as he drove me to his apartment, his windshield wipers sloshing back and forth, the cheerful person I knew from the botany lectures we had attended had vanished. [… continue reading here.]

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