INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Alan Britt
Shutta Crum
Jumoke Verissimo
Las Slomovits
Richard Kurtz
Lyn Lifshin
Duane Locke
Serena Wilcox
Jerry Blanton
Dami Ajayi
Odimegwu Onwumere
Joanie Freeman
Dike Okoro
Amit Parmessur
Paul B. Roth
Divya Rajan
Kim Keith
Fred Wolven
C. Derick Vann
Al Ortolani
Steve Barfield
Jim Davis
Chris Lord
Jennifer Burd
Will Swanson
Isabel Kestner
Lisa Schmidt
Running Cub
Tolu Ogunlesi
(a pantoum)
All night we hear the wind
whistling through bird wing and bone--
and comfort ourselves with remembering.
When we unbar the door the moon staggers into our arms.
Whistling through bird wing and bone,
the cacophony of night and its dark cousins cry out.
When we unbar the door the moon staggers into our arms--
a round-faced simpleton.
The cacophony of night and its dark cousins cry out.
The wind is as barbed as a beak.
And the round-faced simpleton,
robed in glass, paces the length of our house.
The wind is as barbed as a beak.
It rips at our remembering.
And robed in glass, pacing the length of our house
is our moon-mad father. He asks if we hear the wind.
Ripping at our remembering,
we unbar the door--and he staggers into our arms.
Our moon-mad father asks if we hear the wind
whistling through bird wing and bone.
WHEN A DAUGHTER DRIVES
Go! Go! Leave me...
For how I want nothing more
than to keep you here!
Take the keys to the truck.
Wave as you pull out of the drive.
Don't worry that street signs are blank;
claim each crossroad as your own.
And when you get to a country without a name
turn right, then right again.
Stop often and ask for directions.
Talk with your hands, and your heart.
When you are tired, sprawl upon the grass
and feel the Earth traveling, too.
In small towns listen to the lonely and the lost.
They have their own pilgrimages to make.
But don't strand yourself with zealots
upon the curb of one idea.
Move!
Pinch off little pieces of your heart
and scatter them behind you like a shining path.
It stings, but it is all right. Healing happens,
and scars are sacred.
Be sure to stop on a farm lane and eat stolen peaches.
Be sure to tell the man you've met that he is beautiful.
Then, when the sorrel-colored bellies
of leaves brush your skin, make love.
When you are heavy with child, come home.
We will pick wild berries and kiss with stained lips.
And the child in you will move--
Shutta Crum, Ann Arbor