Archive for the ‘Prose Poems’ Category

Sinking Feeling

Posted: Wednesday, March 7, 2012 in Prose Poems
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I fell in love with a woman who was sitting behind a cage.  The cage surrounded her but the seat was so high up that she looked down on everyone who was watching.  She was a blonde woman in a blue dress and had a nervous smile.

I observed as folks lined up around where she stayed.  Finally, some guy threw a baseball and hit the target.  Her seat gave in and she went into the water bellow. All the idiots laughed and cheered.  To this day, I hate that picnic and the lousy dunk-tank, too.

— John Kujawski

John has interests that range from guitars to the Incredible Hulk.  He was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri and still lives there to this day.  You can hear him on the weekly podcast at www.comicbookshowdown.com.

The action moves outward from the drawing room to the street, the carriage to the theatre and back home again.

He asked for a kiss, pointing to his cheek and moving closer, his wife looking on disapprovingly from the hall as she bid adieu.

A perfectly green leaf falling.

The foundation of that “city upon the hill” foretold in sermon (1630, John Winthrop) for the Massachusetts Bay Colony was Roxbury puddingstone, not granite; conglomerate, not igneous; porous, not crystalline.

The slap on the hand that feeds us, and the hand itself, become as one.

— Morgan Harlow

Morgan Harlow is a poet, fiction writer, and photographer with poems and stories published or forthcoming in Burnside Review, Blackbox Manifold, Washington Square, Descant, Seneca Review, West Wind Review, The Moth, E·ratio, and elsewhere, and book reviews at Eyewear: a blogzine of poetry, politics and pop culture.

The History of Pet Burials

Posted: Sunday, September 4, 2011 in Prose Poems
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The farther away you went, the nearer the sick and broken came. Soft rock lilted from hidden speakers in crowded waiting rooms. Birds of all denominations had been flayed, fractured, forced underground. I was between jobs and with nothing to do but count the number of funerals. You swore when you called from somewhere out West that the ocean was developing rudimentary hands in order to take whatever it wanted.

–Howie Good

Howie Good’s latest chapbooks are Inspired Remnants, forthcoming from Red Ceiling Press, andThreatening Weather, available as a free download from Whale Sounds at http://wschap5.wordpress.com/. Howie blogs at http://apocalypsemambo.blogspot.com/.

Nesting

Posted: Friday, February 11, 2011 in Prose Poems
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A man on a bench, wearing a suit.

Sewn on top of his neck is the head of a crow.

He begins to peck himself. His beak penetrates the skin and tears into muscle. The brachioardiall of his right arm is in strips. He continues to snap at the tendons and flesh.

Inside the wound I see three eggs emerging. He vigorously works on his arm again, cross-stitching unidentifiable shreds of flesh.

— Cris O’Connor

Cris O’Connor lives in Bath, England. He was recently longlisted for the Dog Horn Literature Award.

Molly Gaudry meditates on the prose poem, as exemplified in that excellent journal of prose poetry goodness, Sentence: A Journal of Prose Poetics. She also includes a list of exemplary books of prose poetry.

National Book Critics Circle: Best of the small presses, 2010

And Charles Simic, the current Poet Laureate, on “shoveling snow with Nietzsche.”

These are the best books Bat Terrier read this year. (Disclosure: no books by friends on this list.)

Translation

The Illuminations, Arthur Rimbaud, as translated by Donald Revell

Anthologies

Flash Fiction: 72 Very Short Stories, James Thomas, ed.

Autobiography

Subterranean Kerouac: The Hidden Life of Jack Kerouac, Ellis Amburn

Nonfiction

Mystery/Thriller

The Ax, Donald Westlake

Poetry

On Having a Day Alone in My Own House

Posted: Tuesday, December 21, 2010 in Poems, Prose Poems
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On Having a Day Alone in My Own House

I sculpt my gratitude into a Soviet-era monument, a giant blocky thing for the town square. Buses of tourists gawk at it, marveling at the effort. Mothers and fathers nod secretly to themselves: yes, for a day alone in my own house, I agree, such a massive thank-you makes perfect sense.

–Jessy Randall

Jessy Randall’s website is http://personalwebs.coloradocollege.edu/~jrandall. She keeps track of library shenanigans at http://libraryshenanigans.wordpress.com/.

These are the best books Bat Terrier has read this year. Of course, the year isn’t done, and this list might change. But so far, these books all look like contenduhs.

Click for reviews etc.

(Full disclosure: No books by friends listed here.)