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Subsync’s Poem of the Month

Poems chosen for our Poem of the Month are selected because we think they do a fine job of representing the sort of poetry we want for our print journals: an original voice, a sense of authentic creativity, a fearlessness.

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The poems from past years will remain online at our archives site  until the end of the Internet (or WordPress), visible and freely accessible to the general web-surfing public. Please visit Subsynchronous Press Archives for our full catalog.

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All Poem of the Month poets will receive a .pdf of our limited edition publication, The Trove, which is our annual anthology of Subsync’s Poem of the Month series, published every March.

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~~~~~~2019~~~~~~

~~ April ~~

3 Haiku
Gregg Dotoli

quiet sunrise mirror
orange purple clouds and moon
off wet bullfrog eye

*
bright red cutthroat trout
sense dancing beetles
splash wakes desert fox

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hissing fall raindrops
tapping rich soil and roses
night scents meander

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~~ March ~~

Untitled (And though this door is here to love you)
Simon Perchik

And though this door is here to love you
something more than death gives it shape
is reaching for the board you sleep on

stretched out alongside the empty dress
all night climbing on top your shoulders
the way small waves come in

and keep going, making room
for your mouth, for the nakedness
you know is yours with nothing to put on.

 

~~ February ~~

Tryst
Ray Greenblatt

In those in-between days
those tremulous nights
spanning divorce and middle age
we hid husbands in the woods
wives in closets,
         the dog—aware of all treacheries—
         growled behind the bedroom door,
         children evaporated
         for this rare, so-planned-for time
leaving abandoned toy lands
as we created toys
our parched imaginations
our exhausted daily lives
could barely conjure.
         We often failed
         with inaccurate kisses
         impossible positions
         that charley-horsed through
several days after.
At the hour of normal rising
into the frosted air
we slunk where breaths
made ghosts of our evening.

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~~ January ~~

Nesting
Changming Yuan

With withered grasses from epics
Sticks from philosophy
Feathers from contemporary art

We are all busy building nests of meaning
So our souls could settle there
High up as if on Ygdrasil

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Creative Commons License

 This work is licensed under a CC BY-NC-ND 3.0.
Subsynchronous Press 2019

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5 responses »

  1. Only you, Gary, can spin a tale of the mydterious Arizona wilderness. Great write.

    Reply
  2. Dear Gary: Thanks for sharing these great poems. Keep ’em coming! Suzy

    Reply
  3. Thanks Gary Keep ’em coming! Suzy

    Reply
  4. Good company here. NIce to be aboard. JP Kincaid

    Reply

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