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
Richard Gartee
Fahredn Shehu
Amit Parmressar
Ann Arbor Review
is an independent
International Journal & ezine
Copyright (c)
2021-22 Francis FerdeAll 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....
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staff:
Francis Ferde, editor
Silver Grey Fox, editing
Running Cub, reader
Fred Wolven, publisher
Submissions via e-mail:
VINCENT AND CO
For all your
supposed madness,
there's still a window like any other,
and stars glistening through the glass,
and curtains, and floor,
and a bed with a comfortable mattress.
Sure,
everything's a little off kilter,
at an odd angle to the mean,
but we all get our information that way,
slightly dishonest, a tiny bit awkward and ill-fitting,
and still the heavens shine for us,
the hard-wood holds us up,
the good sleep gets us back
to life's true uniform.
Really,
you're as sane as the next man,
the accountant who finds the world is numbers,
the taxi driver who believes it's roads and fares,
even the poet for whom a woman's face is a flower,
a mob of people is a herd of buffalo.
Accountant
comes up short.
Taxi driver gets lost or gets stiffed.
The poet can't tell his metaphor from his allusion.
It's not madness
just the daily aggravation.
And there you
are,
trying to slap down on canvas,
the fight-back against
the raging hell of it all.
Then you gladly cut off your ear.
Good. Now we don't have to.
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF AMERICAN GOTHIC
Museum opens
so it's time to be iconic.
Forget the parodies.
The real thing awaits
its first disbelieving guests.
So farmer, pat down those
few strands of hair,
grab that pitchfork,
slip into your stern expression
and hold it.
And spinster daughter,
keep your body still,
turn your head a little
so your eyes never leave
those ubiquitous prongs.
People traipse in
then stop as if awe-struck.
You're doing your job.
It doesn't matter whether or not
you're a masterpiece.
You're familiar -
an Iowan "Mona Lisa,"
"Madonna and Child"
with a sex change
and dourer dress sense.
Some even reckon you
for the real America -
a dentist and an artist's sister
faking their authenticity.
I would not disagree.
John Grey, Australian; Johnston, Rhode Island