Ann Arbor Review


Lana Bella
Hongri Yuan
Lyn Lifshin
Duane Locke
Elisavietta Ritchie
Michelle Bailat-Jones

Fahredin Shehu
Laszlo Slomovits
Andy N
Alex Ferde
Lekan Alesh
Michael Lee Johnson
Running Cub
Ali Znaidi
Silvia Scheibli
Robert Nisbet
Richard Gartee
Amit Parmessur

Jennifer Burd
Paul B. Roth
Sanjeev Sethi
Keith Moul
Arjun Dahal
Alan Britt
Richard Lynch
Fred Wolven
Eddie Awusi

Joanie Freeman
Hongri Yuan
Amit Shankar Saha


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2017 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 48 years all together....

Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven


Submissions via e-mail:




The scent of the grass is the dust’s guest.
Time is life’s guest.
Wind is the walls’ guest.
The scent evaporates,
while the grass is crying and shedding leaves.
I abstain from peeling onions
because I remember that this life is fake.
Tears are useless.
Origami kites falling one after another
in the presence of the dusty wind.
Nothing remains but scriptures written in green ink;
theories of post-ecopoetics in the making.
The scent of the grass is still lingering in my nose
before this life betrays me again.



You time the moment when the snapshots are taken
the way a hunter tames preys. 
A brief summary
of how you create a representation: the form,

the shattered glass,
the pleasure in assembling fragments
the way you put mint leaves in your tea.

There is a scar in the heart
when you pass by the dead corpses;
all the bygone memories.

The faint pictures
only reverberate in your mind when you (paradoxically)
snapchat with the wind.



Ali Znaidi, Redeyef, Tunisia




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