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Full-Text Articles in English Language and Literature
Owl, Joe Survant
Owl, Joe Survant
Bryant Literary Review
The owl glides in
on secret wings,
silent as a leaf flush.
He knows the quick
motives of chipmunks,
the intimacy of mice.
Horowitz In New York, Tim Bellows
Horowitz In New York, Tim Bellows
Bryant Literary Review
Precise blocks of keys.
He brushes them
and in the ear's inside chamber,
we hear. His fingers white as a baby. Seems the notes
beam across cold deserts-
and hidden sprigs of grass
think to nose their ways
upward, harboring a thin sense
of yellow warmth despite
the presence of ice.
Billy Moran Stands In His Back Yard, Saying His Prayers Over One Last Glass Of Bourbon, Michael Scott Cain
Billy Moran Stands In His Back Yard, Saying His Prayers Over One Last Glass Of Bourbon, Michael Scott Cain
Bryant Literary Review
Our Father, thank you for the bourbon,
for the ice cubes, for the way the color
of the booze lightens as they melt,
for the fragrance that prods the senses.
Palden Gyatso Comes To Town, Anne Hanley
Palden Gyatso Comes To Town, Anne Hanley
Bryant Literary Review
I always go to hear
Tibetan monks
Even though
I cannot understand
Their words.
In A Field Near Sardis Dam, Louis Bourgeois
In A Field Near Sardis Dam, Louis Bourgeois
Bryant Literary Review
Silence. A scarecrow flickers in the wind.
The corn is dead. Geese speckle the horizon,
followed by crows and herons.
In Oxford Cemetery, Louis Bourgeois
In Oxford Cemetery, Louis Bourgeois
Bryant Literary Review
You thought because
the trees moved
and the stones didn't
Dress Rehearsal For Utopia, Karen Donovan
Dress Rehearsal For Utopia, Karen Donovan
Bryant Literary Review
We're glad they made Clear Falls.
The white rocks love the water,
the water loves its splash and brim.
The Hills Of Laura, Billy Lombardo
The Hills Of Laura, Billy Lombardo
Bryant Literary Review
It is true that I hated Hucker Norton. But I did not mean to crush his thumb.
He wasn't one of us, really. Even his name told you he was from some other place. We were Petey and Tommy and Davy and Matty, and he was Hucker.
My Grandmother's Slops Bucket, David Thornbrugh
My Grandmother's Slops Bucket, David Thornbrugh
Bryant Literary Review
My grandmother kept a slops bucket
behind a curtain of blue-flowered calico cloth
tacked over the bottom shelf in her kitchen pantry,
Poem Written In Revlon's "Fire And Ice" Lipstick, Marie Harris
Poem Written In Revlon's "Fire And Ice" Lipstick, Marie Harris
Bryant Literary Review
I secretly wanted to be the girl
you dreamed about as you stood
staring at the phone number
The Boys Of Night Winter, Paul Sohar
The Boys Of Night Winter, Paul Sohar
Bryant Literary Review
Their puffy winter jackets lifting their
faces high above the horizon
the boys troop in from the snow
The Hospital Ships, Carmine Sarracino
The Hospital Ships, Carmine Sarracino
Bryant Literary Review
They might have freighted dry goods--
blouses and trousers, spools of bright
gingham-- from ports to upriver towns.
The Red Chiffon, J.T. Ledbetter
The Red Chiffon, J.T. Ledbetter
Bryant Literary Review
Sleep wouldn't come, and the valium did nothing,
so he looked through the window at the man next door watching television,
his wife gone to bed after changing him.
Then he closed his eyes and listened to cars racing on Market
come back slower, looking for girls.
After Hearing There Are Only 7,000 Stars Visible To The Naked Eye, Charles Rafferty
After Hearing There Are Only 7,000 Stars Visible To The Naked Eye, Charles Rafferty
Bryant Literary Review
With its better eyes, does the housecat
cry beneath the majesty
of 70,000 stars?
Workout, Dave Evans
Workout, Dave Evans
Bryant Literary Review
From my lofty indoor bike seat,
facing a bay window, I see a real fly
caught in a metaphorical Lake Michigan
It's Simple, Tim Bellows
It's Simple, Tim Bellows
Bryant Literary Review
Sunday after a short stack
of blueberry pancakes, half a cup
of ginger-and-cream tea,
The Reverend Henry Evers Has Been Conducting A Lot Of Funerals Lately., Michael Scott Cain
The Reverend Henry Evers Has Been Conducting A Lot Of Funerals Lately., Michael Scott Cain
Bryant Literary Review
The old men are quietly dying.
Each day fewer go to the park
or the Paradise Tavern. The aisles
of the malls are less crowded.
Dawn Camping, Steven Proulx
Dawn Camping, Steven Proulx
Bryant Literary Review
Night slithers off into the horizon
a canvas of ancient pastels in its wake
air is virgin
ground marks no tread
Written On Water, David Thornbrugh
Written On Water, David Thornbrugh
Bryant Literary Review
The man whose smile is a whetstone
excels at kissing knives.
What does the sliced throat say
to the knife that kisses it?
America's Most Wanted, Erica Olsen
America's Most Wanted, Erica Olsen
Bryant Literary Review
I'm coming home from City Market when I spot the other vehicle in my drive.
"Look," I say. "Visitors."
Same Old, Mary Crow
Same Old, Mary Crow
Bryant Literary Review
The same old story is different with each
re-telling. What did mother say? One of the sisters asserts her truth to the other's
incredulity-- someone has to be right.
Homage To Montale, Baron Wormser
Homage To Montale, Baron Wormser
Bryant Literary Review
This morning
The hummingbird's
Pure zigzag
Surprises you.
The indifference to
The long steps
Of your mood.
The Widow Of War, Jon Mccolgan
The Widow Of War, Jon Mccolgan
Bryant Literary Review
Before allure began to pour
out of her sore onto the floor
she stored the door to her heart's core
beneath the boards of her store's floor.
St. Viggo, Karina Fuentes
St. Viggo, Karina Fuentes
Bryant Literary Review
Helen nearly suffocates me the night before the exhibit. She's walking
around on her heels, big cotton puffs between her calloused toes,
when she stumbles and falls on my head, which is stuffed beneath a
pillow. "I'll never sleep again," I groan.
The First Seven Pregnant Women I Knew, Jim Daniels
The First Seven Pregnant Women I Knew, Jim Daniels
Bryant Literary Review
were teenagers. Some kept the baby. Entered
the desert of marriage, their childhoods
mirages wavering on whispered streets.