Since someone took all the warm away.
At the fruitstand, someone waits for peaches and words.
The first poem that scalped me is coming soon.
Anyone out there want to leave comments on the first poem that made you want to
read/write more?
Chicky and I are posting these as close to in order as we can get the. Black Rook (see two entries ago,) was actually one of mine. But there are more.
Show me yours?
Winter well.
8 comments:
Hey you, Happy New Year!
Two of mine are up over at http://iwouldhavebeenalocksmith.blogspot.com/
Watch for Kathrine Wright in the new issue of the Cincinnati Review. The poem is one of this constellation series that she's been writing and you best begin reading them now, as they'll soon be everywhere and the show will go on with or without you. I have it on good editorial authority that they're every bit as bright as the stars they describe.
I was the first reader of those poems over at CR and I loved them! Yay!
I did your meme, Sophia. See which poem the atheist girl chose at me website (Wanda Ball . . .)
This is so much fun. My favorite chicks, their favorite poems...
The blogs of Wanda Ball and Iwouldhavebeenalocksmith must always be watched.
Also, Chicky Wang. Paul Guest (who mysteriously hates me) and Matthew (Dollface!) Guenette. Anthony Robinson. My Kent Staters. Tell us your lovelies, won't you?
cincinati may be colder, but cleveland is getting warmer. i haven't seen snow since november.
on my blog, i've a post in response to this one.
happy new year!
Sweet Natasha, I simply knew you'd come through. I'm heading over there right now...
Be warm then, and still, winter well. And always keep in touch. I miss you guys.
s
I think Anything But Poetry might be in on the game, but it could just be synchronicity too.
Steph, Oh Steph,
You of all chickarinas. Chicky Wang is a girl you know who writes cool poems and you'll figure it out. She's mysterious as a spy. She makes good cookies. She has a contest for you to do and her money is on YOUGIRL most of all.
As for what we're up to: we're posting this poems that first made us drop to our knees for poetry. The poems that made the first shoulder of our figurative dresses begin to shrug themselves off. The first poem you wanted to get naked with bad.
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