Ann Arbor Review


Lana Bella
Deji W. Adesoye
Chris Lord
Ali Znaidi
Francis Annagu
Olajide Vincent Ajise
Lyn Lifshin
Akor Emmanuel
Duane Locke
Running Cub
Paul B. Roth
Fahredin Shehu
Laszlo Slomovits
Silvia Scheibli
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Amit Parmessur
Irsa Ruci
Elisavietta Ritchie
Alex Ferde

Richard Gartee
Robert Nisbet
Alan Britt
Changming Yuan
Nahshon Cook
Peycho Kanev
Jennifer Burd
Fred Wolven

Karyn M. Bruce

Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2016 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida

AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 47 years all together....



Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub

Fred Wolven

Submissions via e-mail:



Love with the unseeing
I promise
the first light that you’ll
at the end
will come at night
in the middle of
the night --
the light of you cell phone
the name on
the gravestone.



In the night’s fog
there’s an echo
of a bell’s toll.

The fire is burning
in the fireplace and
I see a shadow on
the wall,

crickets and cicadas
in the cool air.

Nothing else stirs,
nothing moves,
nothing breathes.

In the lake behind
the house
the killer washes
his hands.



If I hit the soil
in the garden
with my fists
the flowers will
jump in the air
and flee.
Then in their
holes I’ll pour
my bloody tears
to grow stars
for all of us.



Whatever I should have been,
it all boils down to one point –
I was not the one dressed in bloody white
who walked the long path of nowhere;
who talked to stars and light as equals;

the inner clock is ticking with inevitability
and time is simply a phenomenon
vanishing inside itself, forever and nevermore,
but at the end when you reach your destination,
I am here, waiting for you, but out of this world,
into the next one, where we’ll meet.



Peycho Kanev, Bulgaria and Chicago


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