ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Cover
Masthead
Susan Deer Cloud:
Playing Marbles
Dan Nowak:
A Return to the Past After History Failed Me
Katie Hartsock:
The Sun Does Not Rise, We Turn To It
Naomi Glassman:
Miles until Michigan
Michael Keshigian:
Landlord
Andrew Terhune:
The Rabbits of Chicago Wait Only for Me
Mel Sarnese:
Family Reunion
David W. Landrum:
Jugville, USA
Todd Heldt:
The Problem with Memory
Tad Richards:
Mittens
Benjamin Russell:
Picasso's Loaves, 1952 (a photograph by Robert Doisneau)
Richard Lighthouse:
activities during meetings
Ryan A. Bunch:
At the Graveyard
Samuel S. Vargo:
Just a Rainy Night in Georgia
Caitlin Ramsey:
Handy
Kyi May Kaung:
Geese
Steve Klepetar:
Kids Today
Steve Trebellas:
Sweet Dimes
Dan Nowak:
Walking Through a Snow Storm is Like Waiting to Call Yourself
Kathleen Boyle:
O Nonni
Katerina Stoykova-Klemer:
Stones
Susan Deer Cloud:
Asthma
Patty Paine:
salt; or the night you left
Kyi May Kaung:
I come from …
Allan Peterson:
My Math
Maw Shein Win:
throwing sparklers at the green mezzanine
Kim Roberts:
Summer Rain
Samuel S. Vargo:
Fotophone
Janice D. Rubin:
Interstate 5
Patrick Loafman:
An Idiot's Guide to the Blue Cat
Saeed Jones:
Eve on Top
Jean Tupper:
Gisela, my friend …
Michael Spring:
Leaving Belfast
Ryan A. Bunch:
Annual Toads
Katie Hartsock:
Leaving the Forest
Contributors
Volume One Issue Two
I come from …
(with Liz Lerman Dance Studio — Still Crossing Project — 6-3-2006)
I come from — dried
chilies and dust.
I come from stupas gilded
with real gold.
I come from — people shot
in the street.
I come from — child soldiers.
I come from — rape as a
weapon of war.
I come from — nothing but fish paste
and broken rice to eat.
I come from crows and sparrows
shot and netted for food.
I come from dengue haemorrhagic fever
I come from all my friends and
relatives — dead.
All my students — disappeared.
My professors — lost.
I come from — everything — state owned.
I come from — soldiers — everywhere.
I come from human mine sweepers.
I come from — no more — universities.
I come from dengue haemorrhagic fever.
I come from elephantiasis.
I come from — money not worth
the paper — it's printed on.
I come from her six foot son
come home in a five foot coffin.
I come from — hello goodbye.
Arnahdé1 — or feeling bad to say — No.
But in life it is necessary
To say — No — often.
1 pronounced — Arr Nar Dé (Ah Nar Dair — as in "air.")
1 pronounced — Arr Nar Dé (Ah Nar Dair — as in "air.")
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
