Month: April 2008

So today is the last day.You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here. I Cannot Live With You (640)Emily DickinsonI cannot live with You –It would be Life –And Life is over there –Behind the ShelfThe Sexton keeps the Key to –Putting upOur Life – His Porcelain –Like a Cup –Discarded of… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 30

So today is the last day.You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here. I Cannot Live With You (640)Emily DickinsonI cannot live with You –It would be Life –And Life is over there –Behind the ShelfThe Sexton keeps the Key to –Putting upOur Life – His Porcelain –Like a Cup –Discarded of… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 30

You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here.One from our current Poet Laureate.ErrataCharles SimicWhere it says snowread teeth-marks of a virginWhere it says knife readyou passed through my boneslike a police-whistleWhere it says table read horseWhere it says horse read my migrant's bundleApples are to remain applesEach time a hat appearsthink of… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 29

You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here.TrashBJ WardIt was something like lovethat called my mother up at 3amto rise for the Star-Ledger--deliver the papers to the paper deliverers,her Chevy truck rumbling down Rt. 31,passing the same cops, the same delivery trucksheading northbound. It is something like lovethat made that memory part… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 28

You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here.Red BerriesJane HirshfieldAgain the pyrocanthus berries redden in rain,as if return were return.It is not.The familiar is not the thing it reminds of.Today's yes is different from yesterday's yes.Even no's adamance alters.From painting to painting,century to century,the tipped-over copper pot spills out different light;the cut-open… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 27

You can find more info about NaPoMo here, here and here.DisconnectDonna VorreyerYour boyfriend falling asleep while you're on the phone with him could be taken as an insult, I suppose, but when you're fifteen and in love, just the idea that he is breathing on the other end of the line is intoxicating. It's really… Continue reading NaPoMo: Poem for April 26