Untitled [When have you ever heard a silent crowd?] by Monika Cooper
“Untitled [When have you ever heard a silent crowd?]” by Monika Cooper When have you ever heard a silent crowd? Without a word, they watched their schoolhouse burn But one man must have turned his wide-brimmed hat Over and over slowly in his hands. They go home silent. I remember when I wanted to be Amish, like in books, Or Mennonite, like one I saw, my age, Pushing a stroller, in a pioneer dress. The future...
Smash Shop by Elizabeth Jacobson
“Smash Shop” by Elizabeth Jacobson From the bench above the pond I watch two ducks make dark channels in the water as they feed, pathways through a mosaic of cracked green ice. Behind me the rocks, strata of red igneous beneath ochre sandstone, are an unconformity— a geologic span— characterized by an immense amount of nothing between two calculable intervals of time. Nothing not meaning that something wasn’t...
Like a Maelstrom with a Notch by Lois Marie Harrod
“Like a Maelstrom with a Notch” by Lois Marie Harrod Emily Dickinson And when the clothing factory collapsed in Dhaka, Bangladesh, one young seamstress was trapped in the Muslim prayer room which also stored boxes of skirts and shawls, shirts, sheers, socks and sequins, and for those in need, a few prayer cloths thrown over pipes...
Good Stories by Esther Cohen
“Good Stories” by Esther Cohen What is the same what is different? When I was a child I had a big bear funny bear a girl bear not a doll with yellow hair I talked to Miss Bear all day long told her stories long long stories. I didn’t know much about bears. I knew she was smiling at me. Many of us listen for what we know, familiar sounds. Maybe this starts with lullabies, with words we hear every night,...
The Frame of a Couch Is Not a Couch by Karen Skolfield
“The Frame of a Couch Is Not a Couch” by Karen Skolfield The bricked-up fireplace doesn’t even pretend. We could start a fire on the hearth, but then what? In front of the Hotel Lewis and Clark, the Walk sign’s stopped working. For ten years I haven’t seen my father. Every public building has an exit plan. He forwards emails: “The Grandmother of All Blond Jokes.” Heidegger said we must abandon logic to...
WAVES ALIVE |