after Matisse You have pencil-scarred knees, foot-soles. Bones and flesh round as worry-stone. If I took that right arch as if to rub clear the sweeping marks, you would press into my firm grip.
Posts tagged Poetry
Geography Is A Bitch
Erica grew up in Seattle, Washington where she attended the University of Washington. She currently resides in Brooklyn and attends the New School where she is working towards an MFA in Poetry. Previous publications include the Monarch Review and Snail Mail Review.
Troy In The Cancer Ward
Such a Greek gift this cancer is inside your body, crone artifact. Cronus, chemo, metastasis, a blade taking time in your breast, adulterers flogged, our family sacked. Poseurs and posies, pollen spilt, demon drops, lemon…
In The Dustlight, Listen
1/ Tonight the trees are paper nuns leaning over fox bones. And you’re still here. Near the railroad cars. Near the shallow hillside. Your hands just as thin as they always were. 2/ Give…
Fall 2014 Release Reading
Join us on Friday, November 14th at 7 pm, as Portland Review celebrates the release of our Fall 2014 issue with a reading event featuring the work of contributors to our print issue and website….