INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Richard Kostelanetz
Karyn M. Bruce
Duane Locke
Lyn Lifshin
Rich Ives
Chris Lord
Anton Gojcaj
Donal Mahoney
Laszlo Slomovits
Alan Britt
A. J. Huffman
Bhisma Upreti
Ali Znaidi
Paul B. Roth
Joan Colby
Rexhep Shahu
Catherine McGuire
Michelle Bailat-Jones
April Salzano
Kufre Udeme
Jane Butler
Jennifer Burd
Peycho Kanev
Joanie Freeman
Jennifer Burd &
Laszlo Slomovits
Frederick Pollack
Fahredin Shehu
Holly Day
Serena Wilcox
Ndue Ukaj
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
Allison Grayhurst
Rose Mary Boehm
Michael D. Long
Jim Davis
Christopher Dungey
Bobbi Sinha-Morey
Jason Ryberg
Douglas Polk
Janine Canan
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:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
Submissions via e-mail:
I prefer not to see the words that I am writing,
so I take a look through the window:
I see a dog walking outside, sniffing at the trees,
pissing in the bushes; white and brown dog,
and this is real enough to believe in it,
but I say:
Oh, brother this is not possible,
because I do not want to look at the words I am
writing right now,
or the words that I am not writing,
but the blue sky laughs,
this wide and grey sky tilts slowly upon my sheet;
this is impossible--
the fog and the brightness in me opens up,
memories of heavy rain or just my fantasies for rain?
The sounds of the approaching storm are crawling
towards me:
I close my eyes--
not wanting to see the words that I am writing,
and I open them up again to see through the window
only this dead dog.
Peycho Kanev, Chicago & Sofia, Bulgaria