Statement of Record

CategoryPoetry

Like we all do

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by Megha Sood

Pain unravels slowly
like the filigree ends of a fern leave
unfurling in the dewy winter mornings
nature gives away the love
it stores and nurtures

Two Poems by Larry O. Dean

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by Larry O. Dean

Yanked from the freezer,
it doesn't resist, cubes dispersed
unevenly, one
side of the pale blue plastic tray
weighted down by a half-

Three Poems by Uche Nduka

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Mbari 4

Now you see them now you don’t. Scraping by. Yardwork of archival stock.
Paramnesiacs cracking the greenstone with gold leaf.
Even at Hotel Viking and Omni Hotel.

Disequilibrium and dictum in a rendezvous.
Sinking into the profoundest headbutt. Twilight on Hanging Rock.
An offloading of off-paths...

Two Poems by David Dephy

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by David Dephy

I will never understand the world where:
The Life is the Death.
The Death is the Love.
The Love is the Lie.
The Lie is the Truth.

Three Gertrude Stein Inspired Poems

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Rudy (after Gertrude Stein)

He’s senile.
He’s a scene
I’ve seen
in Aisle C.
He sees the Nile
in Aisle C.
See the scene of the Nile
Seen on the isle?
See the sea
seen in Aisle C?
The sea near this isle
isn’t the scene he sees.
but the isle he sees
...

Four Poems by Margo Taft Stever

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by Margo Taft Stever

Every year, American factory farmers trap sows in cramped crates;
they birth and crush ten million piglets under the weight of their own bodies.

Three Poems by Uche Nduka

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By Uche Nduka

partly because love
travels through much
of these lines

ears & glyphs follow

something like a rash move
& various kinds
of self-denial

Four Poems by Küçük İskender

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Introduction by Dr. Serdar Taşçı, Sociologist

İskender has written frank, brutally honest, and sometimes shocking poems that push the limits of social norms. He has created profoundly philosophical poems with a unique literary style. He is a poet who deserves to be translated to many world languages and read widely. What Pink Floyd meant for world music is similar to what İskender means...

La Strada

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by Veronica Golos

The woman standing at the door of her hut. Blazing sun, the air clouded with insects. The girl, you, skinnier than in the film, hungry thin, owl eyes; blistered roads, never meant for auto or truck or

tank. The silence here is heavy, another burden, the girl, you, thin as whitethorn. Threshed from your own flesh.

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