Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Lyn Lifshin
Richard Kostelanetz
Karyn M. Bruce
Duane Locke
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Laszlo Slomovits
Kufre Udeme
Michael Lewis-Beck
A. J. Huffman
Nugent Karhu
Fred Wolven
Shutta Crum
Fatmir Terziu
Steven Gulvezan
Kyle Hemmings
Adeeko Ibukun
Chris Cialdella
Paul B. Roth
Fahredin Shehu

Chris Lord
Dike Okoro
Jennifer Burd
Alisa Velaj
Joanie Freeman
Jeton Kelmendi
Richard Luftig
Dzekashu MacViban
Mike Berger
Al Ortolani

Ndue Ukaj
Alan Britt

Jennifer Burd &
Laszlo Slomovits
Diane Giardi
Running Cub
 



 


 

 


 


 




 

 

 


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2013 Silver Grey Fox
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
------------------------------------------------

 

 



staff:
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

 

 

 

 

THIRD COMING

It's that time of the millennium
again, these being the first
true hours of the Third Millennium
according to praying scientists.

When you stop and think about it, we primarily fictionalize
our histories,
since we've destroyed, misunderstood, or forgotten
most of our past lives, anyway.

Governments thrive on this amnesia.

Presently we're inundated
with further misunderstandings of religious prophets
predicting this week gloom
and next week glory,
as though they were alternating currents of truth.

Hmm...which myth to read
to our children tonight?

Perhaps the ancient fairy tale
about a mischievous boy
turning his friends into goats and pigs
before learning to walk on wine?

My personal favorite
has him returning as a poet,
consisting primarily of lights:
velvet-plum, lime
and guava-speckled lights
in wild ochre patterns
like those found on Florida salamanders.

I believe this constant change of temperature
allows me to focus
with razor accuracy
whenever I practice this particular vision.

In short,
I am reborn
today;
a Monday
I believe it is.



MY DOG, CHLOE, LOVES RILKE

I say, Chloe, when you destroy your demons,
you lose your angels.

Chloe licks her lips.

Human nature, hurricanes thrashing DNA
against the breakers
until sparks appear,
then all hell breaks loose.

Who could imagine?

Controlling nature with fire?

Then there's the Sears Tower,
the Empire State
& various space needles
dotting urban jungles.

Finally, I remind Chloe what the great poet
Useff Michangelo de Conigliari once said:
Demons & angels are too horny
not to mix the races...as one
enslaves the other, one penetrates
the other by force, if necessary,
to get one's point across.

As much as she appreciates Useff's insight,
Chloe twitches her left ear,
shifts an arthritic hip
& continues her favorite translation
of "The Panther."



BABOONS

Baboons link man & dog.

Biting their nails like stock market junkies.

Staring into heaven
with a no-vacancy sign around their necks.

Dissolving hind claw behind right ear
extracting something that needs extracting.

Clouded leopard paints the mountain rocks
with its smoky presence outside midnight
mass near Cape Town.

One baboon, man-dog,
scans the shadows for intercourse,
a quickie, nightcap, perhaps,
one eye peeled for moonlit rocks
changing their spots.




Alan Britt
, Reisterstown, Maryland


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