From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Jul 3 07:57:34 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 3 Jul 2011 10:57:34 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] JEFF FALLIS [Part Two] Message-ID: ALLIGATOR MUSIC The world is a widescreen dream, but it’s what we’ve got. The toenail moon grants us sleep and silence, rocks us blues and purples each blurred and sloppy night while the sun shines solid as a sigh. I know I need more vitamin D, I know I could settle for forked & accursed and just smog up with my arms folded, my under- carriage protected. Must be gobsmacked and cruel, must be a stubborn Southern alligator to arrive back where you started and start smashing your pink and butter brains out against the bleary mattress of the house that was your childhood home. Out of lost gusto. Out of thwarted love that will redeem you. Out of faith in the unsteady bedrock of the landslide to pickle and boil you into an openness bright as the summer heat on an upended rockpile. *Jeff Fallis* is a Ph.D. student in creative writing at the University of Georgia. His poems have appeared in publications like *The Oxford American* , *The Iowa Review*, and *Ploughshares* and in the anthologies *Blues Poems* and *The Art of Losing*. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Jul 10 06:54:21 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2011 09:54:21 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] GRAHAM FOUST Message-ID: POEM CALLED *NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD AND ZOMBIES* * * or *Dawn of the Dead and Zombies*—I don’t care. “Department of Redundancy Department,” I say in my most cheerful bitter phone voice, though I’m not at work and my Blackberry’s off. I lie—and it lays—on the couch, both of us oddly perfect, like a pinball and a cloud. I find I’m to bed on the late side these days (television test patterns having vanished) but I could always get there earlier were there reason enough—say, *one*—to do so. You say “tomato”; I say “Don’t tase me, bro!” Have I got an obituary for me: b. 1970; d. 19-something; lives in California with his family. *Graham Foust* lives in Oakland and works at Saint Mary's College of California. His most recent book is *A Mouth in California* (Flood Editions, 2009). -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sat Jul 16 08:06:57 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sat, 16 Jul 2011 08:06:57 -0700 Subject: [Realpoetik] HEIDI LYNN STAPLES Message-ID: THE ART LANDS In the beginning was now, dreaming collarless streams like a couple straying together into mold rage. We whose first names are. We, whose? Same zip’s ode. Uncertain’s weather. Ore’s knot. The sky in knots weight for anyone; The ground, slow river, is and uttered star’s green. As I was. Fraying. A torn anecdote hit my mutter’s vernal core, ripped dawn here’s fence. Nobody was her. Are you glistening through me? Do you even core what I’m a keening? I don’t brink you flew. Dear, my puns and homing too ripple of, every sing leaks the filial truth: we will go supped in flumes. *Heidi Lynn Staples* is the author of *Dog Girl *(Ahsahta 2007) and * Guess Can Gallop *(2004). Her poems have appeared in *Chicago Review*, *Denver Quarterly*,* Ploughshares*, *Women's Studies Review*, and elsewhere. Currently, she is finishing up a PhD in Athens, GA. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Jul 24 06:07:44 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2011 09:07:44 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] HEIDI LYNN STAPLES [Part Two] Message-ID: PSALM 74: 16-17 She prays drift’s bride, Earthite estoile drift’s bride: Agrope five hundred years Feather-like Amant Nun. Agrope hand PSALM 45: 7-8 Substance ambergris, fixing the scentedness: Polar Pod, prey Pod, has lower jaw of teeth single nostril Economic expansionists prey for tallows. You prey arms against squid Reservoir, man wants nose, Man’s castles lit, petrol now What bright lamps How seas culled And Let, Earth’s dive wave’s heave wake’s forehead. *Heidi Lynn Staples* is the author of *Dog Girl *(Ahsahta 2007) and *Guess Can Gallop* (2004). Her poems have appeared in *Chicago Review*, *Denver Quarterly*, *Ploughshares*, *Women's Studies Review*, and elsewhere. Currently, she is finishing up a PhD in Athens, GA. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Sun Jul 31 08:34:40 2011 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2011 11:34:40 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] JENNIFER KRONOVET Message-ID: MAINE There is culture and there is The Culture of a place making you friendly, wearing your sense on your sleeve. Here, on the page, we always want to talk about beauty. Out there— out the window—we leave a mattress in an empty lot. Don’t make me find you beautiful. I say that to the ocean. It keeps giving itself away like the girl I was in HS. The internal culture shifts too slowly to see like mold grows. I have become myself again. Again, the sensible sand. *Jennifer Kronovet* is the author of *Awayward, *published by BOA Editions. She is Writer-in-Residence at Washington University and lives in St. Louis, Missouri. -- RealPoetik www.realpoetik.org -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: