Monthly Archives: December 2012

SATURDAY POETRY SERIES PRESENTS: OSIP MANDELSTAM

“HEAVINESS, TENDERNESS . . .” By Osip Mandelstam Translated from the Russian by Eugene Serebryany Heaviness, tenderness—sisters, your traits are alike. Honeybees drink a rose that is tender and heavy. Someone passes away. Once-warm sand cooling down . . . … Continue reading

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My Favorite First Line

My Favorite First Line by Jordan A. Rothacker When I think of my favorite first lines in literature, there is one that haunts me most often. This particular line is from a fairly recent read in my life with books … Continue reading

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SATURDAY POETRY SERIES PRESENTS: WILLIAM KELLEY WOOLFITT

SHE REMEMBERS THE WEDDING OF SAMSON AND HER SISTER By William Kelley Woolfitt From my hiding spot, what I saw of him was as I thought the lion dying and torn, or the bees—flitting from the carcass’s dark cave—might see, … Continue reading

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This Is My Rifle

This Is My Rifle by Paul Crenshaw A few months after I moved to North Carolina I was sitting on a porch with a half-dozen other people, drinking and talking about writing, movies, books we loved. It was October, and … Continue reading

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What Nancy Lanza Knew

What Nancy Lanza Knew by Sonya Huber I was in the grocery checkout line when I learned that Adam Lanza killed his mother. Over the following days, the facts wavered in the Internet deluge: she did work at the school … Continue reading

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The Weight of a Gun

The Weight of a Gun by Tawnysha Greene When I was eight years old, I shot my first semi-automatic weapon, but that wasn’t the first time I had ever held a gun. When I was three, I wandered into my … Continue reading

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SATURDAY POETRY SERIES PRESENTS: STEPHANIE BRYANT ANDERSON

SOMETIMES THE BLOOD GOES COLD By Stephanie Bryant Anderson My sleeping bones live, like snow on snow, I hear them speak: another day, another night. Another. Another. Sometimes                                    (in the hours that you’re gone) the blood goes cold. (Today’s poem … Continue reading

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SATURDAY POETRY SERIES PRESENTS: RABBI RACHEL BARENBLAT

SUFGANIYOT By Rabbi Rachel Barenblat In oil, pale circles roll and flip, doughy moons inflating. The fun part: poking a finger inside, giving a wiggle and twist, pushing a dollop of jam knuckle-deep, then two, ’til the cavity gleams raspberry. … Continue reading

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SATURDAY POETRY SERIES PRESENTS: BRETT ELIZABETH JENKINS

FAILED HAIKU By Brett Elizabeth Jenkins My hip bones carry/ around the names of the dead/ like sagging parentheses./ When I sit they heavy me./ When I stand, they pull/ down my shoulders. When/ it rains, they tender/ and swell … Continue reading

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