prose poem

Democracy is not for the People, by Josef Kaplan

by Karl Wolff November 1, 2012 Reviews

ISBN: 9780984885749 $15.00 Weapons catalog descriptions: cyberpunk, academic prose, fables, and a Tyrannosaurus Rex stopping a suicide bomber. From these disparate sources Josef Kaplan creates Democracy is not for the People, his newest volume of poetry. Divided into four parts, the book confronts the unholy terrors of globalization, globalized terror, and mass-market homogeneity. These confrontations [...]

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BARTAB: AN AFTERHOURS BALLAD

by Jeff Hewitt July 19, 2012 Reviews

BARTAB: AN AFTERHOURS BALLAD Two Handed Engine Press 118 p. ISBN: 978-0982002001 Cesca Janece Waterfield’s poetry is palpably stunning at times. Raw and evocative, her debut book, () veers between profoundly personal poems about the nature of life fueled by substance abuse—and a refusal to accept traditional boundaries—and the prose poem-narrative of two musicians floundering [...]

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Rimbaud’s Last Revelation

by Alfred Corn July 26, 2011 Poetry

An encounter it would have been gripping to see: the 1875 reunion, in Stuttgart, of Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine, at the conclusion of the older poet’s two-year imprisonment in Belgium. (He had been convicted for firing on his lover and giving him a flesh wound in the wrist.) Verlaine told his friends that, as [...]

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“Concerto Grosso” by Michael Snediker

by Poetry Blog Editors February 19, 2010 Poems News Events

Allez, allez, I leave a radio like a light on for my return from campus the way Mrs. Snediker left Katie Couric velveteening for the golden retrievers who might well prefer less Katie more quiet, all the more so as hours melt the morning, Katie becoming more nasal, less paid television friend versions of herself. [...]

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The Melody Ascends Stepwise

by Ben Pease February 15, 2010 Poetry and Poetics

A missing Pleiades in the viewable cluster of stars cannot deny us motion though we cannot master its name: there is something you are not telling me standing at the standing stone detained neither by chicken wire nor the upright megalith we imagine pulsing and in so thinking feel the earth beneath us breathe: looking [...]

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