Tuesday poem #375 : émilie kneifel : who let the dogs

dog arched into a beautiful vase, trembling dog staring at me through the shower glass as his cataracts fog. he jumps as i lift him up onto our bed. we slow dance while my grandpapa sings. my mother says “What is this? What is this love?” and once more i’ve been loved for the last time.

émilie kneifel collects lost teeth at emiliekneifel.com

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #374 : Brianna Ferguson : BOYS AND GIRLS IN THE GARDEN

The old lady of Monday afternoon keeps watch in the park

with her military-grade binoculars.

The birds of the swamp are active today--

heads dripping gutter water as Spring cracks its leather whip

at their colorful backs.

From five hundred meters she can hardly see their colors.

Just black and white forms, male and female,

tagging each other like wedding gifts in a registry.

There is so much sex,

so many flapping bits,

it stands to reason that boy birds,

cousins, brothers, mothers and sons

be tripped by the wires of incestual sins

from time to time.

Older birds take younger birds

without their consent,

choking them in the beaver fever water

as they seek survival through their progeny.

But all this woman sees from this distance is

God’s creatures fluttering in the trees,

fighting and fucking their way

through another Garden.

Brianna Ferguson is a writer and educator located in the Okanagan Valley. Her stories and poems have appeared across Canada, the U.K., and the U.S.A. in magazines and anthologies such as Minola Review, Jokes Review, and The Apocrypha Files.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #373 : Matea Kulić : Emailing

Emailing a message, emailing an answer, emailing a reply, emailing a response.

Emailing a thank you for the email! emailing a that’s so great to hear!

Emailing a see you there! Emailing a ok, thanks for letting me know!

Emailing to subscribe, emailing to unsubscribe, emailing the waitlist, receiving an automatically generated email.

Starring an email, looking at one “of many” emails, wondering what ever happened to that email, deleting all drafts lest they become cold.

Emailing a happy face emoji, adding a Carbon Copied recipient, emailing a monkey covering his eyes, adding a Blind Carbon Copied recipient.

Emailing the judge, emailing my friend in Spain, emailing a carpenter, emailing my sister.

Emailing to re-affirm my commitment, emailing to cancel, emailing to support your campaign, using the contact form since an email has not been provided.

Sending an email with “no subject,” scheduling my send so that you can’t tell what time I’m emailing, signing into another email account, a reminder to set-up mail forwarding.

Creating a new label for work emails, finding a forgotten old emails to follow up on label, creating a newer Urgent! label, creating the label: emails for later.

Emailing to say sorry, emailing to say could we talk about this later next week?, emailing to say emailing may not be the best format for this discussion, emailing my phone number.

Not emailing. Pretending not to check emails on my phone, deleting duplicate and unimportant emails, emailing a few pics.

Emailing about what we’ll eat tonight, emailing a recipe, wondering if we should invite some friends over later, emailing a Google Cal invite.

Emailing to say, yes, emailing to say excited, emailing a poem, emailing to say thanks for all the back-and-forth.  

*This poem got its start from the poem “Reading” in Jacqueline Turner’s Flourish. The poem begins “Reading quotes, tweets, snippets.”

**According to a 2017 Survey, Canadians spend 17 hours a week, reading, responding and sending emails.

MATEA KULIĆ is the author of chapbooks PAPERWORK (Anstruther Press, 2019) and FRAU L. (Perro Verlag Books by Artists, 2016).

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #372 : Franklin Bruno : HUGE, IF TRUE

Akin to neither a wen,

to an octopus, to cancer, to Hell,

nor to a crystal, satisfying a pattern

mysteriously preordained, the city

may instead be conceived as a novel

but natural phenomenon arising not

from the clash of tectonic plates

nor the erosion that shapes their forms,

but by economic circumstance:

A mountainous landscape

of skyscrapers, tenements,

department stores and office blocks

heaving majestically out of the earth

in response to irresistible forces

only to be just as inevitably worn

down to rubble by the incessant passage

of the wheels of trucks and taxis,

by the feet of messengers,

policemen, shoppers and commuters.

We cannot vouch for the geologic

accuracy of this comparison,

yet admire its cosmic quality.

Franklin Bruno is a writer and musician, born and raised in Southern California’s Inland Empire, and now based in Jackson Heights, Queens. He is the author of The Accordion Repertoire (poetry, Edge Books) and Armed Forces (music criticism, in Continuum/Bloomsbury’s 33 1/3 series). His poetry, criticism, and scholarly writing have appeared in Brooklyn Rail, Oxford American, The Village Voice, Popular Music and Society, Paideuma, and Critical Quarterly. Since the 1990s, he has released 20 albums of original music as one-third of Nothing Painted Blue, under his own name, and (currently) as frontman of The Human Hearts. Collaborative projects include writing, recording, or performing with John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats, Jenny Toomey, Laura Cantrell, and the Schramms. He holds a Ph.D in Philosophy from UCLA, and has taught at Northwestern University, Bard College, and SUNY Purchase.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

Tuesday poem #371 : Amelia Does : Oh

Oh Hampstead

Oh

Oh milk bone

Oh

Oh rain barrel

Oh

Oh centipeded crawls

Oh

Oh Drysdale

Oh

Oh lemon town

Oh

Oh lie detector

Oh

Oh with legs and eyes

Oh

Oh under the carpet

Oh

Oh down the laneway

Oh

Oh without a sound

Oh

Amelia Does is a writer and artist whose work has appeared in Cineforum Italia, Incite Journal of Experimental Media and Synoptique. Her poetry chapbook, Amsterdam, the Abba Version was published by Proper Tales Press. She is also author of a biography, Do Not Look Away: The Life of Arthur Lipsett, an absurd Novella, The Coming of Jarbina, and a children’s book, The Walking Tree and Other Stories. ameliadoes.weebly.com

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan