Friday, March 30, 2018

Pablo Picasso, by Trevor Pyle



Trevor Pyle is a poet and short-story writer north of Seattle. His recent
publications include McSweeney’s Internet Tendency and Apeiron Review.
He was a finalist for the 2017 Pacific Northwest Writers Association
Poetry Contest.

About the poem:

I was always taken by the oft-quoted (and perhaps apocryphal) line about razors
by Picasso. It was fun to push that comparison between his art’s rather sharp
nature to the same aspect in his personality and legacy, which also drew blood
through the years.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

The Stenographers Union, by Phill Provance




Phill Provance’s poetry and prose have previously appeared in the
Baltimore Sun, Orbis, Arsenic Lobster and others. His second chapbook,
Given to Sudden Laughter, is forthcoming from Cy Gist Press in 2019.
He lives in Woodstock, Illinois, with his son, Ledger, and is currently
completing his MFA at WV Wesleyan.

About the poem:

“The Stenographers Union” came about as an attempt to create a Deep Image
montage within the rhetorical framework of an intimate admonishment—
with the ultimate aim that the reader would construct meaning from it as if
looking into a mirror, rather than having a controlled meaning dictated to
her. Intentionally glib, it also toys with enjambment to, I hope, come across as
something like a MadLib: as irreverent toward itself as toward its subject matter.

Monday, March 26, 2018

Mysteries of the Corn, by Kyle Potvin



Kyle Potvin’s first poetry collection, Sound Travels on Water (Finishing Line
Press), won the 2014 Jean Pedrick Chapbook Award. She was a finalist for the
2008 Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award. Her poems have appeared in The New
York Times, Measure, The Huffington Post, JAMA, Able Muse and others.

About the poem:

Each fall, my husband and I hang the same decorative corn on our door that we
have displayed since we moved to our home 20 years ago. The copper-colored
ribbon has frayed; the husk is dry. Yet, we hang it, an inside joke. One day, either
the corn or the door will be gone. Loss gnaws at me.

Saturday, March 24, 2018

If These Are Eggs, By Kate Murr



Kate Murr writes from the Ozarks and holds an MFA from Warren Wilson
College. Her work has appeared in Tinderbox Poetry Journal, Pencil Box Press,
and Elder Mountain.

About the poem:

I wrote this poem in December 2016, when I was thinking about the vitality
and fragility of individual connections within a culture that seemed intent on
intensifying the ways in which we “other.” I was thinking, too, about the complexity
of group insulation and the time-tied, cumulative effects of ignoring or excluding
outgroup voices. This poem is a wish for attention, for ingroup-egg transcendence,
for paradoxical inclusion.

Thursday, March 22, 2018

I Was Happy as an Ant, by Andrew Shattuck McBride



Andrew Shattuck McBride is a Bellingham, WA based writer with work
in Connecticut River Review, Mud Season Review, Cirque: A Journal for the North
Pacific Rim, The Raven Chronicles, Perfume River Poetry Review, and Clover, A
Literary Rag. He edits novels, memoirs, poetry collections and chapbooks.

About the poem:

I read John Ciardi’s translation of Dante’s Inferno, and came across the mention of
Aeacus’s prayer to Zeus to turn ants into men. I was so intrigued I used it as a poem
prompt.

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Flagrance, by Sylvia Byrne Pollack



Sylvia Byrne Pollack’s work has appeared in Floating Bridge Review, Crab
Creek Review, Clover, and Antiphon among other print and online journals.
A Pushcart nominee, she received the 2013 Mason’s Road Winter Literary
Award for her poem “Gregory” and was a finalist for the 2014 inaugural
Russell Prize.

About the poem:

“Flagrance” began life as “Cherries,” a ten line riff on a dying tree. This year’s
anniversary of the Tohoku earthquake led me to revisit “Cherries.” Through seven
revisions (more florid, then less; personified cherry blossoms; varied details of the
earthquake), I ultimately sought a lean, restrained, shibui telling of the story. And I
got to conflate fragrance and flagrant!

Sunday, March 18, 2018

After, by Tyler Kline



Tyler Kline is the author of the chapbook As Men Do Around Knives (ELJ
Editions, 2016). He lives in Pennsylvania where he teaches middle school
English and works on a vegetable farm in the summer. Visit him at
tylerklinepoetry.com.

About the poem:

I wanted to write a poem that addressed the unfortunate stigma attached to mental
health conditions; namely, those who take prescribed medications. I was interested
in describing my own experience and how sadly these conversations about mental
health occur behind closed doors when we should, as a society, be working to create
safe spaces for these types of discussions.

Friday, March 16, 2018

23andMe Says My Body Is A Sanctuary City, by Jen Karetnick



Jen Karetnick has published seven poetry collections, including American
Sentencing (Winter Goose Publishing, May 2016), long-listed for the 2017
Julie Suk Award and the 2017 Lascaux Prize, and The Treasures That Prevail
(Whitepoint Press, September 2016), finalist for the 2017 Poetry Society of
Virginia Book Award. She co-directs the reading series, SWWIM (Supporting
Women Writers in Miami).

About the poem:

This poem is about the DNA/mitochondria tracing of Ashkenazi Jews, who if you go
back far enough have many similarities to other reviled ethnic groups. The subtext
is that while certain traits may or may not reveal themselves in any given person,
the intergenerational trauma of always being “othered” and exiled is what’s truly
passed down. I wrote it on International Holocaust Remembrance Day, when #45’s
administration failed to mention anything regarding Jews in its cursory address
about the day.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Calling Out the Muse at 37th and Sixth, by Nancy Keating



Nancy Keating is a candidate for an MFA at Stony Brook University. Her
work has been published in New Letters, the Southampton Review, Tar River
Review and elsewhere. She lives on Long Island, NY.

About the poem:
I had a writing assignment to draw on my impressions of the Garment District in
New York City, and for some reason thought about how poets in antiquity would
begin with a prayer to the muse.

Monday, March 12, 2018

Blue Reminds Me of the Truth, by Elizabeth Jacobson



Elizabeth Jacobson's second book, Not into the Blossoms and Not into the Air, winner of the 2017 New Measure Poetry Prize, is forthcoming from Free Verse Editions/Parlor Press, Fall, 2018. A chapbook, Are the Children Make Believe?, is just out from dancing girl press.

About the poem:

Although desire may let us know we are alive, in a sense keeps us alive, I am always
looking for what is outside wanting. Exploring the natural world, which includes
humans, is compelling to me.