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Full-Text Articles in English Language and Literature
May Day, Ken Mccullough
May Day, Ken Mccullough
Bryant Literary Review
It happens when I feel myself
turning into a cottonwood
Selling To The Goyim, J. Weintraub
Selling To The Goyim, J. Weintraub
Bryant Literary Review
It is my firm belief that the blood of generations of salesmen flows through my veins and that, at least on my father's side, peddlers, pitchmen, hucksters, drummers, horsetraders, and merchant princes have been in my family since the days of Solomon.
Flush, David Jauss
Flush, David Jauss
Bryant Literary Review
My father didn't throw the hammer at me,
just toward me. I told myself it didn't hurt
Judging, Gordon Graves
Judging, Gordon Graves
Bryant Literary Review
Old Dance Cameron looked over the rude plywood and the 2x4 structure that held the floral exhibits.
Lessons, Ronald Thorpe
Lessons, Ronald Thorpe
Bryant Literary Review
I cannot remember
a day when I did not think
about dying.
School Spirit, J. Tarwood
School Spirit, J. Tarwood
Bryant Literary Review
Has anybody here ever cheered
A high school quarterback
Frog Legs, Robert Samarotto
Frog Legs, Robert Samarotto
Bryant Literary Review
They lie on my plate
like dismembered Barbie Dolls.
The Middle Years, Walt Mcdonald
The Middle Years, Walt Mcdonald
Bryant Literary Review
Planning a family, we thought heaven would be
four collie pups, two acres without a fence
"Tiny, Delicate Fishbones...", Peggy Lin Duthie
"Tiny, Delicate Fishbones...", Peggy Lin Duthie
Bryant Literary Review
Some January days, every scrap of sky
sparkles needle-sharp blue and clean
The Gerbils, Rustin Larson
The Gerbils, Rustin Larson
Bryant Literary Review
Happily busy in the middle of the night
Destroying their cardboard tube. To sleep
On The Horizon, Bill Sweeney
On The Horizon, Bill Sweeney
Bryant Literary Review
Girls measure their shadows across a tiny courtyard;
above, telephone lines, aerials, antenna
Walking Home From The Cemetery, Peggy Lin Duthie
Walking Home From The Cemetery, Peggy Lin Duthie
Bryant Literary Review
I dreamed that corpses did not rot
but recomposed, chose new disguise:
The Letter Carrier, Ronald Thorpe
The Letter Carrier, Ronald Thorpe
Bryant Literary Review
Who understood him? Not his brothers.
His father's love had been drained away
Study/Statues, Leonard Gontarek
Study/Statues, Leonard Gontarek
Bryant Literary Review
Philadelphia slips its branches
through the dusk. The statues flake off.
The Secret Agent Held Over At O'Hare, Bill Sweeney
The Secret Agent Held Over At O'Hare, Bill Sweeney
Bryant Literary Review
It was nice to see Chicago
on the way to Santiago
The Nazi, Baron Wormser
The Nazi, Baron Wormser
Bryant Literary Review
I can't remember who played the Nazi
But his face thrummed like glass in summer sun.
Kathleen Mary Mccarthy, Jason Starbuck
Kathleen Mary Mccarthy, Jason Starbuck
Bryant Literary Review
chrysanthemums carnations red roses babies breath
mahogany casket golden lattice work dustless satin pillow etchings
Tremors, David Jauss
Tremors, David Jauss
Bryant Literary Review
The night I heard you have Parkinson's
I dreamed I was walking through the meadow
Fat Tuesday, Rosalynde Vas Dias
Fat Tuesday, Rosalynde Vas Dias
Bryant Literary Review
tonight
Jesus is in New Orleans
warm with good red wine
Superior, Ryan Guth
Superior, Ryan Guth
Bryant Literary Review
These pine-dark
shores are seventy
thousand years old
Lesson One, Janet Proulx
Lesson One, Janet Proulx
Bryant Literary Review
All winter long
Sister Mary Julian would enter the classroom,
Post-Freudian Dreaming, Richard N. Bentley
Post-Freudian Dreaming, Richard N. Bentley
Bryant Literary Review
I had a dream Tuesday night in which I was either attending a lecture
Junior College, J. Tarwood
Junior College, J. Tarwood
Bryant Literary Review
All my friends had gone off
As if each had found a fate.
Leavetaking, Janet Proulx
Leavetaking, Janet Proulx
Bryant Literary Review
As I leave the nursing home where my mother now lives
The Counterpoint Lesson, Lyzette Wanzer
The Counterpoint Lesson, Lyzette Wanzer
Bryant Literary Review
My father always told me there were two kinds of jazz: white people's jazz, and "the real thing."
Sean, Courtney Zullo
Sean, Courtney Zullo
Bryant Literary Review
A handcrafted butterfly hangs over her bed,
Infant Savant, Naton Leslie
Infant Savant, Naton Leslie
Bryant Literary Review
Madonna and child on
the south-east crossing pier