Poetry Archived

Cascade

by Steven Gordon You murmur my name vibrating my drums and little bones stimulating my brain with a soft sigh as the fall of snow kissing the ground in nearly silent whiteness...

General Anesthesia

by Andrew Merton You feel a pinch and away you go, a small boy again, whirling through that corridor you’ve read about, all the way down to a joint called Heaven, a worn ballroom on Seventh Avenue, wher...

Chemo

by Andrew Merton in memory of Jane Pufky Nesbitt In ‘65 David drove her east, this secretary from Syracuse, to meet his college buddies. David in a Red Sox cap, unveiling Jane like next year’s...

Biopsy

by Andrew Merton The surgeon carves a slice from my tongue, the bit, as it happens, containing the letter L. In a week, he says, it will give us an answer. Meanwhile, lust disappears, la...
close up of the ribs of a leaf

Nebulizer

by Terry S. Johnson I carefully fill the canister and place the mouthpiece correctly. My inhale begins across the diaphragm and stops short too soon at the lower ribs, so clogged with pneumonia are my lu...
snowy road through the snowy woods

Iris

by Terry S. Johnson Not the spring flower catching rain in delicate whorls but the concave disc inside the eye gathering light, breathing in photons as the brain exhales understanding. The doctor’s...
Patchwork Quilt

Surprise at Sunset

Lift off beyond sixty, and here my heart as flutter-fed as any girl’s. The patchwork years blew by.  Still, I in some odd state I dodge as not senescence have faith that few will note and fewer ca...
closeup of two hands and chin turned up to the light

Light

I saw an old friend at the supermarket, a friend of my firmer flesh and lighter heart days I heard that she’d been ill – that big, mutilating women’s disease We exchanged the discreet inquires of suburban m...
closeup of dna strand

Inheritances

1. Calculate mattress undulations 5:00 am, upstairs. Meiosis in her fallopian tube shortly after, determined by timing of ovulation, not coitus. What is the susceptibility gene? Pocket watch reflected in the...
Paris bridgeover seine

Les Mouchoirs*

As I sit here in our one-star hotel in Paris I think of my father, chronically ill these six months, physically changed, frail and smaller. This spring, his eighty-seventh year, I’m buying him old man h...