Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Fahredin Shehu
Elisavietta Ritchie
Uvie  Gwewhegbe
Jennifer Burd
George Miller
Robert Penick
Laszlo Slomovits
Richard Gartee
Gale Acuff
Stephen Sleboda
Robert Nisbet
Chris Spitters
Silvia Scheibli
Michael Lee Johnson

Alicia Mathias
Alan Britt
Y. Przhebelskaya
Helen Gyigya

Aneek Chatterjee
Alex Ferde
Running Cub

Joanie Freeman
Shutta Crum

Fred Wolven

Steve Barfield

Deji Adesoye

Michelle Bailat-Jones


 

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Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2020 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
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AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 55 years all together...

 

------------------------------------------------
staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven

 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net

 

 

Early and Late

after that first meal together at her parentsí
house at which we all ate a little too much
out of nervousness her father said to me
letís just you and I go out on the porch
and schmooze while the women clean up

as he led the way I looked at the mother
daughter and they looked at each other
and we all shrugged and I braced myself
for a repeat of the scene from the Graduate
in which Mr. McGuire says ďplasticsĒ to Ben

until we sat down and he started telling me
the failures of his youth and how he had
struggled to overcome them and how he is
still trying to find the keys to the remaining
sets of handcuffs his father had locked

all the way up his forearms including the one
that sometimes makes him forget to treat
women right and I felt ashamed for every
condescending thought Iíd had about him
and then he added youíre still young

if itís not too late for me ó and itís not ó
itís not too early for you and with that
he got up and said letís go help the ladies
and of course the mother had known
and hadnít touched the dishes

 

Triolet of the Mirror

Stop, turn around, donít burn the mirror!
It has to be returned one of these days.
How will you explain such an unforgiven error?
Stop, turn around, donít burn the mirror,
now that thereís only a wild-blind terror
snarling sharp teeth till the culprit obeys.
Stop, turn around, donít burn the mirror!
It has to be returned one of these days.

 

 

Laszlo Slomovits, Ann Arbor, Michigan 

 

 

 

 

   


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