Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Silvia Scheibli
'Deji W. Adesoye
Chris Lord
Ali Znaidi
Paul B. Roth
Umm-e-Aiman Vejlani
Lyn Lifshin
Laszlo Slomovits
Naim Kelmendi
Richard Kostelanetz
Anton Gojcaj
Duane Locke
Jennifer Burd
David Ishaya Osu
Steve Barfield
Miguel A Bernao Burrieza
Richard Gartee
Violeta Allmuca
Alan Britt

Fred Wolven
Ilire Zajmi
Running Cub
Donal Mahoney
Fahredin Shehu
Peter Tase
Nahshon Cook
Al Ortolani
Alex Ferde
Anton Frost

Michelle Bailat-Jones
Lazlo Slomovits & Jennifer Burd

Karyn M. Bruce
A. J. Huffman
Michael D. Long


 


 


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2014 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
------------------------------------------------


staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven

 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

 

 

BLACK ICING

Scrape its skin
with a water wind
inside the black bitter candy
is a purple icicle
of lavender wine     

 

WHEN IíM EIGHTEEN                       

Iíll die.

            I will eat
my nipples                                                                                                                     

as cows knit raffia ripples                                                                                                                    

I will climb all horses   
and ride to hell.

But, if the tangerine is bitter                                                                                                              

Iíll return my tongue to its tomb                                                                                                

And be silent

till I reach its ending: Silenceís tail

Then, I will pour blood  
            in a burnt book,     
            till the brooks are bare   
            and the trills are still.

            Next year,                                                                                                                                                    I wonít die again;

            I must have been born again                                                                                                              

dancing

 



 

David Ishaya OsuAbuja, Nigeria

 

 


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