February 28, 2018

We Are All Ghosts (Maverick Duck Press)

Poems by Kendall A. Bell

Some folks like their poetry straightforward, in plain language, emotionally intense and free from slick poetic devices. We Are All Ghosts by Kendall A. Bell will be a satisfying chapbook for those readers....

February 27, 2018

Elegy for Erik



In a squall, I'd want you

at the helm, your eye

on map and compass. I’d want

you filleting the trout, you

as my surgeon...

February 27, 2018


ebony, her hair

glistening against

a pink bunting.

She is grinning,

looks ready for

adventure. Some

where else, birds

are coming back,

somebody puts

on green. In

Guatemala City

morning mist

burns off over the

hills in the distance.

Outside a window,

someone h...

February 27, 2018

Black Cat Bone   

“’Cause I’m a voodoo child.”

- Jimi Hendrix

Big houses turn me on.

Under the table

in her denim skirt

    and dark tights

she owns a cat’s slow,

silent moves

    and lips

that set my whistle

for a long ride

         on a whipsaw...

February 27, 2018

A City Square   

        your eyes slide to the right
        taking mine with them

        our pints and popcorn

        the heads of benches in the crowded square

        the circling carou...

February 27, 2018

How to Wear This Body

Hayden Saunier

Terrapin Books, 2017

The striking cover of Hayden Saunier’s collection, How to Wear This Body, captured my immediate attention. A coat adorned with antlers, a bird’s nest, feathers, ferns, and twigs suggests the inseparable connections...

February 27, 2018

          She walks the empty house. Paint peels below the watermark in commas, a scaly flick of fish. She checks cupboards, counting, dividing provisions into days.

          Close the cupb...

February 27, 2018

    The fair was an annual occurrence.

    Like most things in Delaware, a member of the du Pont family had founded it. The point was to sell flowers and raise money for charity, and for almost a century the event’s original name, The Flower Market, had stuck....

February 27, 2018

          “I was quite partial to oysters,” the old lady said, eyes narrowing as she peered into the tunnel that occasionally turned itself inside out into the present even as the actual present was swallowed whole.

          Her mind tumbled to unex...

February 27, 2018

          She unfolded the slip of paper that had become damp and soft as rag from having been clenched in her fist, for she had not wanted to have to search for it later. The paper said ‘Via Garibaldi, 16, quarto piano.’ She stared up into the heig...

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