Category: Poetry

Plaza San Juan

Stephen Brown To view a .PDF version of this poem, click here. Stephen Brown was born in 1976.  He attended the University of Waterloo in Ontario and Athabasca University in Western Canada.  His...

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La Vie En Rose As Film Noir

Karen An-Hwei Lee for Edith Piaf Je vois la vie en rose    Little sparrow I see morpheus blooms               A girl dead of meningitis     Des mots de tous les jours grand-mère’s ill...

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THE BEAST OF THE SEA

When I realized that I was no longer weighing down the boat. That someone had built a throne for me out of coral and abalone. That the walls were dissolving, like a final joy suppressed forever: ...

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Babysitter

When I gripped the electric fence and felt the thud between my shoulder blades I thought that the girl with downs syndrome had punched me in the back. My brother laughed with the sisters— the one...

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Beasting the Awesome Sauce

for Matthew Harness onto the andele, I’m on belay, flashing an off-width—watch me—I Z bone the       T bone Zamboni crony smooth.  Short-fused muse, powder sugar keg stand your...

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BEAST OF THE SEA (2)

And there was given to it a mouth with which to speak great things and blasphemies.  And there was given to it, too, authority, and hierarchy, and men and women worshipping. This was the dream of...

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MASKS

At the grocery store today— these meteors and angels, wise men and all the beautiful hallucinations of December, wearing the masks of the Ordinary, the Annoyed, the Tired. The Disturbed. The Sane....

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The Country

There is a horse with a face made of flies. There is wet shale, a porch, a storm. You are checking your body for ticks. The moonlight glazes your skin as you turn in the mirror, no red apertures...

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Trespassers

Tonight you are a mile of black weeds. You are a crow with a beak full of smoke on the move over the river. Tonight I shave my head and nail a baggy of hair above my door. I walk by the light of my...

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THAT MEN SHOULD KILL ONE ANOTHER

It is the bread that will not be baked. The bread that rises and continues to rise. It is the recital performed every night— Little girl in a snowstorm in an empty auditorium.  Not the soldier on...

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