Poetry Commons^™

Posted: Don't Poach, Nathan Whiting

Bryant Literary Review

You now read an uncollected poem.

If a poem collector, you should

In His Introduction To Five Poems, J. R. Solonche

Bryant Literary Review

In his introduction to five poems, Su Tung-p'o wrote:

I got drunk and wrote five poems.

The Name, John Grey

Bryant Literary Review

There should be a name for people

who sit on a rock for hours

Passio #008, George Gott

Bryant Literary Review

If we know

what we ought to know

we join hands with the mighty world

John 3:10010000110, John Supinski

Bryant Literary Review

Welcome to the kingdom of the Immortal

Where races are run barefoot

Contributors

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No abstract provided.

You And I, Gregory Sherl

Bryant Literary Review

This morning we decide to build
a baby in your belly.

36., Sean Lause

Bryant Literary Review

Thomas Null, machine 36, the hole-puncher,
was secretly apprenticed to despair

A Map For Students, William Jolliff

Bryant Literary Review

They want to make their poems right themselves,
and they know they should, but to win the A
they need me to like their work (so goes the rumor).

Pretty Ballerina, Kerry Jones

Bryant Literary Review

It's just one of those things that sometimes happens to me: I'll find myself walking by a playground, or I'll be walking through the mall, and I'll see a little girl about eleven or so, and that's when my mind takes on a life of its own.

On The Pardoning Of Two Thanksgiving Turkeys By The President Of The United States Of America, Jennifer Perrine

Bryant Literary Review

For this particular sentence, there is a reprieve
because there's a precedent, an annual event
stretching back to Harry Truman's postwar days, lurking

Verso

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No abstract provided.

Table Of Contents

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No abstract provided.

Editor's Note

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No abstract provided.

The Palm Reader Is Packing It In, Richard Luftig

Bryant Literary Review

Since the cops have cracked down
there's no future in fortune telling anymore.

Title Page

Bryant Literary Review

No abstract provided.

Children At The Wake, John Grey

Bryant Literary Review

I admit that, more than once,

I've pointed to the sky

Dedication, Charles Harper Webb

Bryant Literary Review

Where did Blake Bumgardner find the washtub-sized
cojones to confess over the phone, then listen

Confidence, Laura Buermann

Bryant Literary Review

I am a polysyllabic phenomenon,
a thesauric wunderkind

Traveling Alone, She Fell In The Sistine Chapel--, M. J. Iuppa

Bryant Literary Review

collapsed in a whirl, as if a gust of wind
struck her weak ankle and set her spinning--

Tierra Blanca, Andrea Lewis

Bryant Literary Review

I had what I wanted. I was alone with Charles.

Pages From The Textbook Of Alternate History: Plato, King Of Syracuse, Phong Nguyen

Bryant Literary Review

When Dionysus II first offered to Plato the city of Syracuse, jewel of Sicily, for the philosopher to rule as his own, there was a moment of hesitation

Bee Lust In Manhattan, John F. Buckley, Martin Ott

Bryant Literary Review

Thousands of bees swarmed outside a Manhattan
deli, trapping dozens of patrons, the meat scent

I Killed A Bug Last Night, Carol Hamilton

Bryant Literary Review

He was walking along the edge
of the tasseled rug, no hurry,

Without Breath, Michelle Soucy

Bryant Literary Review

I'm eight years old and my parents make me sleep in my sick younger brother's bed with him in case he stops breathing again

On The First Morning, Patsy Anne Bickerstaff

Bryant Literary Review

of spring
when I see a red shiny
balloon valentine shaped
descend

Doing The Math, Martin Cloutier

Bryant Literary Review

James was experiencing a breach -- a psychic breach. Like his real self was coming into contact with a parallel universe self.

Peace, Jack Granath

Bryant Literary Review

I remember it as
a rock song, though

On John Coltrane's "My Favorite Things", Nathaniel Lee Hansen

Bryant Literary Review

With steady three-beat brushes and cymbal
of Elvin Jones, stand-up pulse of Steve Davis,

A Bullfight, C. W. Owens

Bryant Literary Review

Warily, the bull's hooves pound the sand--
black hide, muscle, churning with intelligence--