Creative Writing Commons^™

My Son Dreams That, As We Fished For Pumpkinseeds, A Shark Ate Me, Charles Harper Webb

Bryant Literary Review

Did I hook the shark, and it yanked me in?

Did it leap, and pluck me off the pier?

Yesterday's Tongue, John Mckernan

Bryant Literary Review

Its syllables

Dripping to the brown earth

Small Blue Butterflies, Buff Whitman-Bradley

Bryant Literary Review

On a walk around the lake

I pause to watch three small blue butterflies

Alone, Ron Koertge

Bryant Literary Review

Maybe it's just the kind of poetry I've been reading,

but I can't help noticing how alone most poets are:

The Poet, In One Last Desperate Attempt To Please His Public, Lays On The Blarney, Louis Phillips

Bryant Literary Review

The words in this poem are quite ordinary.

Bride And Groom, Charles Harper Webb

Bryant Literary Review

Piece by piece, the china slips from soapy hands.

Friends drop the crystal wine-glasses;

Morning Report With Other Disturbances, Stephen R. Roberts

Bryant Literary Review

You might want to head to work a bit early this morning.

Sowing The Seeds, Janet Proulx

Bryant Literary Review

Grandfather would sit in a rocker by the window

smoking a pipe and gazing upon his bountiful garden

Robots, Joseph Scott (J.S.) Kierland

Bryant Literary Review

The Major drove north along 95 into the oncoming darkness. The sun hung low over the desert behind him,

Verso

Bryant Literary Review

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Title Page

Bryant Literary Review

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Table Of Contents

Bryant Literary Review

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Editor's Note

Bryant Literary Review

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Papa, Scott Walmsley

Bryant Literary Review

His crow's feet walked a thousand miles

His dark bags carried all his treasures.

Poison Pie, Jeannie Galeazzi

Bryant Literary Review

What I'd done wasn't exactly a crime. The "Help Wanted" sign I'd spotted just this morning was gone,

Leonard Cohen Sings All Night, John Tustin

Bryant Literary Review

Leonard Cohen sings all night

on my miserable wet black drive

Hoodoo, T. M. (Michael) Bemis

Bryant Literary Review

I grew up in a small town about fifty miles north of New York City called Briarwood.

Waiting For The Sun, Nina Bennett

Bryant Literary Review

Venice Beach is smaller than I imagined,

not large enough to hold its history

Nights When Father Jived With Demon Rum, Madelyn Garner

Bryant Literary Review

Dogs yelped. Mother spat blood. Which explains

the slamming of doors, clawing through back room windows,

Bingo, Seth Benton

Bryant Literary Review

Mosquitoes spatter the wall

beside us as the sweet rot

smell of marsh at low tide

Small Fires, Keith Alexander

Bryant Literary Review

Ryszard turns in a clearing

with a finger to his lips.

It is fall, dead fall, ssssh,

Interruption, Keith Alexander

Bryant Literary Review

A cow in the meat yard opened its mouth

and out poured the voice of Bessie Smith.

The Lion Cub Raised By A Terrier, David Starkey

Bryant Literary Review

reminds me of the porcupine

reared by a manatee, the raven

The Hippo At The Bronx Zoo, Circa 1965, James Arthur Anderson

Bryant Literary Review

The mouth opens like a dumpster lid

and, trained to toss, we all comply,

Love Letter To My Imaginary Man (After Pamela Alexander), Christine Graf

Bryant Literary Review

Next time you walk by my bedroom

in your hulk of spectral dust

with a gust of Thor and thunder, stop

Horses, Gladys Goldberg

Bryant Literary Review

The sorrel who eats carrots

from my hand

A drift of gold in his thick mane,

The Passenger Seat, Madeline Wise

Bryant Literary Review

Rudy called his ex-wife from a dealership in San Francisco and blurted out, "I've got it, Mimi, and it's all mine!

The Whale Remained For Rebecca, Floyd Cheung

Bryant Literary Review

Of course they took your iPod,

those fabulously large sunglasses,

Fly In The Air, Judy Klass

Bryant Literary Review

...strafes the dinner party guests but does not land, cuts through the invisible gases jagged,

A Walk On The Old Road, Wendy Smith-Stenhouse

Bryant Literary Review

It's cold

but I stay

standing in the road