Poetry

UNDER WINDMILLS, GUANTANAMO, Anonymous

UNDER WINDMILLS, GUANTANAMO, Anonymous

I. It is the opposite of winter, this place, except for the long shadows. I was under one – under the windmills at Guantanamo, the day Ted Kennedy died. Looking down on the lowered U.S. flag at the top of John Paul Jones Hill tall and still above the cactus bushes Castro left behind as […]

THREE POEMS by Marilyn L. Taylor

THREE POEMS by Marilyn L. Taylor

On Learning, Late in Life, that Your Mother Was a Jew                           Methuselah something.  Somethingsomething Ezekiel.                                                                                                 —Albert Goldbarth So that explains it, you say to yourself. And for one split second, you confront the mirror like a Gestapo operative— narrow-eyed, looking for the telltale hint, the giveaway (jawline, profile, eyebrow)— something visible […]

TWO POEMS by Edward Perlman

TWO POEMS by Edward Perlman

THE BUS STOP PARK Of all the crazy things I’ve seen along the path that hacks the corner off the bus stop park, a plot of die-hard ivy beneath a gingko tree where bits of colored glass shimmer like jewels the forty thieves have dropped, this one takes the cake. Trust me; I’ve seen some […]

A QUARTET OF GHOSTS by Ann Eichler Kolakowski

A QUARTET OF GHOSTS by Ann Eichler Kolakowski

I. Charles Keys: At the Wheelwright’s Shop My job was one of arcs and angles, anxious folks preparing for a journey (theirs or someone else’s).                                 Wagon wheels demand precision, while the dead absolve a coffin’s hasty corner. Hacksaw, rasp, and […]