Whelped behind an old Hindu temple on the road linking the beach of Mullaitivu and the lagoon, she was the lone survivor of her pack easily recognized by her light brown coat, perky ears, pointed snout and delicate feet. The others—her children, siblings, sires, foes and friends—had died in the war or in its genocidal aftermath, from bombs, gun fire, mines, starvation, thirst … [Read more...]
America
:: American Literature & Poetry |Poems from America by wonderful American Poets. Read, enjoy and do share the world of American Poetry.
Mount Zion Church, Grant Takes Command | Keith Moul
War dead fell in patterns around craters, and will long enrich the battlefield. Some forever will inhabit the soil. Survivors, like shadows, return to circle the lush grass; argue possible versions of their own history. Since victory, I offer my shame at living; I offer atonement as demanded by our leaders; I offer up partisan fantasies couched with propaganda; I offer … [Read more...]
Dolly’s Place on S.R. 29 | Keith Moul
Dolly's life and my life proceeded apace, anyway, but only since 1996 overlapping at her prairie cafe. She was only thirty when the former operator quit the lease, held so long patrons forgot “before Bill.” At sixty years, I only ate, without talent as a cook. One thing I know for sure, thirty years of separation tends to bar sentimental talk between contemporaries. But, … [Read more...]
Red Light Run | Joe Albanese
Maybe I’ve always chosen the cloth monkey over the wire one, tazing myself with absorption Maybe I chewed the apple straight to the cyanide Maybe I queued behind myself, ouroboros once or twice or ten times over Maybe I’m Sisyphus pushing my own boulder back down the mountain Might I follow through with this, these sotto calls to arms — just a red light … [Read more...]
Man Walking Cow | Carlos Reyes
He has saved her from four lanes of traffic on the Inner Ring Road of Domluru brushed her black coat to a sheen, and dressed her up, starting at the tip of curved upward horns, she could hook the yellow moon with, to her well-trimmed hooves that were the nails of a princess, wrapping her in blood red, and green yarns, elegant silk saris, and bleeding madras. He leads … [Read more...]