Poetry 3.3

Disappear by Arlene Ang

Disappear by Arlene Ang

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 The living room is dark save for the white dog. Moonlit and snarling. It is white save for the eyes which are gaps in perception. The first time I saw a volcano, it was in the presence of dying. The […]

RE: Glass Rooster by Arlene Ang

RE: Glass Rooster by Arlene Ang

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 I’ve reached Los Angeles. Now where is it?1 I wrapped it in yesterday’s headlines. Somewhere there’s a war written in another language.2 A lesson on safe distances. Or gin and tonic.3 No, I put it among the socks. Stashed among […]

The Phone Rings Once by Arlene Ang

The Phone Rings Once by Arlene Ang

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 A small throat, but the grocery carts are rolling. I am a landmark: at least three women disappear from view when I open my eyes. It’s the holidays. The caller wants to know if I’m interested in buying a coffin. […]

Crossed by Michelle Askin

Crossed by Michelle Askin

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 Again I prick a finger on my vine bed in this snowy Yukon forest and after a dream of you scrawl with what bled and juice from the compost’s squashed peach on the green of a birch branch: It was […]

Give by Michelle Askin

Give by Michelle Askin

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 And I come from a city so holy the shopping store break rooms are filled with a smell of fast food and foreign prayers. So that now when I pass an Anacostia alley and watch a bum grab a shoot […]

Washed by Michelle Askin

Washed by Michelle Askin

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 5PM dusk when everything blurs here in West Falls Church: flurries & the last pink blossoms fleeing dogwoods that let loose the yuppies and now shelter brick row homes of Middle Eastern and Hispanic districts. Everything blurs: the throat like […]

A Non-Sequitur for Darwin by Danielle Goncalves

A Non-Sequitur for Darwin by Danielle Goncalves

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 I was 3 weeks late when I called my sister. We sat on her back porch and talked about Europe. About the hanging carcasses in France’s butcher shops, and how she became a vegetarian. I scheduled an appointment as her […]

Mariachi Static by Howie Good

Mariachi Static by Howie Good

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 1 A woman shouting over the black static of the waves asks what I lost. I straighten up. Nothing. The man with her stares angrily out at the water. I’d been searching through rooms of seaweed and broken sea shells […]

Short Changed by KJ

Short Changed by KJ

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 When I want to jail my inner peace I imagine the sole otiose, white thing a poor wop like me can jab into a toaster when he does not have any fresh bread: Nothing. Last month infernal, crimson oblivion lay […]

Elegy to the Saint Thomas Projects by Christopher Lirette

Elegy to the Saint Thomas Projects by Christopher Lirette

Poetry, Vol. 3.3, Sept. 2009 Even the trees are dangerous. Road’s a motherfucker. There’s only one place for times like these, a TV with cartoons in any color, wrought iron like wrought backs blazing in the gaslamp sun, and, of course, our guns. But summer’s […]