Poetry by Jacquie Burckley in the style of Rae Armantrout:
Just the Same
But you haven’t heard of
water, cotton, boxes, ink, dust?
Sign my petition!
Motel
she chose the white
sand dollar I assume
to place underneath
the soap bar.
im sure it has purpose.
OneX
Your fingers dance over the matter with focus and intent like a choreographed
encounter. Sometimes you shift gears and I am certain you will miss a
beat which would be confirmation to me that you are in fact
human but alas you ease through like a graceful minx.
Adept fingers grow from strong hands that can
both julienne mushrooms and produce
a weighty blow. Will they be nimble
or stout when
handling me?
Poetry by Chrissy Schreiber in the style of e.e. cummings.
one
abu
n
da
nc
e this home is f
all of(potat
oes & grit
s & grandmo
ther’s rhuba
rb)st
rangers wi
th no f
a
ce
s
nofacesno
three
look to his legs,julie
& you’ll see a cape there
(fly)
look at that cape,darling
& you’ll see a goon there
(spry)
look to this goon,mila
& you’ll see a lackey there
(ken)
look to his lackey,pet
& you’ll see a home there
(den)
two
who
wrote
a
sto
ry
about a ma-
n, a m
an nobody
knows (nobody
can &
nobody did); we were
wrong:us,
misguided. if
a
man (who)ever
was who is
truly(never)worth
forgiving,
we could not say
. hope
(Read) Between the Vines 