verse

Occupation

Posted: June 19, 2009

When they came, they took the house. They let me and my sisters live in the basement. My father died of hunger. (Sasha, 1942)

Steps, forced thunder
dust upon my head
Anything not to ask for bread.

Voices upon the table
words eating words
mouthfuls over mother's iron skillet

wake to fog—creamy cataract of sky
descended thinly. Cheeks sunken paper napkins
becoming apparition.

stuff them with garbage
with air, dream of sucking cherries
diffusion of color,

sunrise provisions:
enough light to open—the iris
feels no difference

Closed against sky, I see variations
speckling of life racing through
ice thin tissue—your blood, mine.

Dust—could be summer, remains
upon our heads. I speak
to myself—to you. echo.

Spring 2009 Poetry:

RAPPERS AND THEIR GAME by Michael Cromwell
EDITOR'S CHOICE: Three poems by Robert Flanagan
OCCUPATION by Elizabeth Pavlov
ONE BLUE SHOE by Barbara De Franceshi
THE FUNERAL DIRECTOR by Jennifer Juneau
CASH CROP CONCRETE HOLLOW by Dave Migman
THE SWIMMERS by Oskar Hansen
MAUDLIN MOMENTS by Judson Hamilton
HORNETS by Christie Isler
BLACK MAGIC BOXES by John Tortora