Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Patty Dickson Pieczka
Deji Adesoye
Michelle Bailet-Jones
Steve Barfield
Gale Acuff

Elisavietta Ritchie
Solomon Haruna
Aneek Chatterjee
Karyn M. Bruce
Robert Nisbet
Laszlo Slomvits
Y. Przhebelskaya

Running Cub
Alan Britt

Alica Mathias

Michael Lee Johnson

Vyarka Kozareva

Silvia Scheibli

Richard Gartee
Fahredn Shehu
Amit Parmressar

John Grey
Shutta Crum

Jennifer Burd
Kushal Perusal

Fred Wolven

Stephen Sleboda

Denis Robillard

Alex Ferde

 


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2021-22 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

 

 

 

 

Semi-Native

So many flee the northern realms,
forwarding address: Miami Beach
where itís always ninety degrees,
and sun shines even while itís raining.

Here, beach girls smell of coconut oil
as they lie on sandy blankets
with the straps of their bikinis
unfastened.

On South Beach, Ferraris and Lamborghinis
vie for parking outside swanky clubs;
inside, anorexic women in skin-tight dresses
and stiletto heels twerk to Cuban rhythms.

Meanwhile, in Key West,
the tourists drink margaritas,
sing Karoke about a broken flip flop
and pay homage to Papa at Sloppy Joeís.
 

Snowbirds swear they miss the four seasons
with the scent of spring lilacs
and children licking
mulberry purpled fingers.

Apparently, theyíve forgotten
shoveling out the driveway,
stepping into ankle deep slush,
or March coming in like a lion.

Those who forgo seasonal migrations,
in favor of permanent residence,
invest in license plates
that read: Semi-Native.

 

First Revelation

While one with mother,
essentials flowed freely
and abundantly.
Never gave it a thought.

Suddenly, lifeís first revelation:
what we want is outside of us
and requires effort to get it.
What a slap on the ass, that was!

Breathe in
breath out
donít stop
not even to sleep.

Take a nap,
wake up, cry for mother,
latch on, suckle, swallow, burp,
then fall back asleep.

And the wanting?
There seems no end to it.
Buddha warned thatíd be
the problem.

 

Richard Gartee, Gainesville, Florida

   


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