Monthly Archives: April 2014

Monday with Pessoa: Who Are You, Reading Me?

Posted on April 28, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

I am like the sun shining on a cold day. You will not see me or feel me for I have already died. And if I have properly discovered the truth of consciousness then you only experience me through your … Continue reading →

Posted in Mondays with Pessoa, prose poem | Tagged , | 8 Comments

Three Books by Seann McCollum

Posted on April 22, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

1. shoplift a six-pack of love from the plaid pantry of my heart The 49 short prose pieces in this book will make you laugh and they just might put a hairline crack in your little heart.

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Guest Poet: Seann McCollum

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

  Pop-up Book The rooms of the house Faded and folded flat Ready to spring back up When you crack the spine I tape over the windows Staple the doors shut Erase the doorknobs Scribble over the locks You will … Continue reading →

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Guest Poet: Angela Forret

Posted on April 11, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

      golden rooms i want you to follow these steps forget form in this fiction it is the ability to move to create action friction between us without going under drowning in that made up benediction that crossed … Continue reading →

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Robert Vaughan and Breathless

Posted on April 9, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

Breathless for Robert Vaughan I dreamed that you had died and there would be no more from you but that what you had given we’d take and parse and continue to chew passing from mouth to mouth, as we always … Continue reading →

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More Swiftly Continually in Evening

Posted on April 6, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

(an Ashbery remix)* for Victoria The disquiet of early missteps impeded our understanding of late afternoon, while our bed’s confusion warns away snap judgments made anyway, already, and anyhow through the open window a band of marauding children add color … Continue reading →

Posted in mockingbird poem, poem | Tagged , | 5 Comments

Guest Poet: Joy Ann Jones

Posted on April 4, 2014 by Mark Kerstetter

  Moon Song The moon sang the sun out but not for long. You spread my hair over fever chills like a paisley shawl. Your tears ran down my face a spirit veil, wet lace. Your lips walked from one … Continue reading →

Posted in Guests | Tagged | 13 Comments