Contributed By: John McKernan
Is probably
What powdered uranium tastes like
Yes She was the word floozie to a T
But that word
Does not rhyme with the word pain
Why am I looking again at these photos
We’re sleeping on some white beach at midnight
Who could have taken this picture ?
What an intriguing corpse I’ll make
My brain loves
Is skilled at dread
Very busy tailor
Stitching darkness
Around the edges of any bright candle
Return to table of contents for Issue 6 Fall 2012
Issue 10 Summer 2016 TERRY ADAMS has poems in Poetry, Ironwood, The Sun, Witness, College English, The Painted Bride Quarterly,and elsewhere. He MCs poetry events at the Beat Museum in San Francisco and in La Honda, California. His first collection, Adam’s Ribs, is available from Off The Grid Press. He rescued from oblivion and lives in Ken Kesey’s infamous 1960s cabin in La Honda, California. ALICIA […]
Okla Elliott: What is the process by which your journal’s staff selects a piece for publication? Jodee Stanley: At Ninth Letter we have a fairly large editorial staff, with three faculty editors for fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry, as well as several graduate students who work as readers and assistant editors. The selection process is pretty much the same […]
“Clam shells, your hands, / your hull’s flare in the palm hold. / Enshrouding bone on bone./ Curved like a whale. / Washed up.”
