Ann Arbor Review


Shutta Crum
Paul B. Roth
Laszlo Slomovits
Duane Locke
Felino Soriano
Chris Lord
Jerry Blanton
Carmen Firan
Amelia Makinano
Connie Stadler
Fred Wolven
Duane Locke
Tolu Ogunlesi
Running Cub
Joanie Freeman
Gerald Clark
Karyn M. Wolven
Holly Day
Dike Okoro
Fred Wolven



you switched yourself
off, and a dark,
cold moon ascended
at once between us.

frozen incense,
a tipsy snowbeing floating
in festive darkness,
escaping the sacred places
that a now-forgotten sun left behind...
and I, I keep trying.

time to warm
your temples up again;
to clear out your robbers
and ruined vessels.

we shall replace the burnt-out moon,
and squirt the halogen lamp
of spring into every grim face
of ice.  we shall let the green
glow again.

and we shall be, again.


Long before the conscious
Touch of cold whiteness
On black skin,
It snowed
In my mind.

Poetry fell
from a dark sky
And froze my foolishness
Through its thin anorak.

Metaphors watched over memories
Near the vacant fireplace;
Sgt. Poetry
Administering the Prison of Words.

And a cold light polished
My words
To that fiendish glint
That startled God
And left my nameprint everywhere.


Tolu Ogunlesi, Nigeria


Ann Arbor Review   |   Home    |   next  |  previous  |  Back to Top