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Crater Face

© Denise Duhamel

is what we called her. The story was
that her father had thrown Drano at her
which was probably true, given the way she slouched
through fifth grade, afraid of the world, recess

my mother pushed my sister out of the apartment door with an empty
suitcase because she kept threatening to run away my sister was sick of me
getting the best of everything the bathrobe with the pink stripes instead of
the red the soft middle piece of bread while she got the crust I was sick with
asthma and she thought this made me a favorite

On Being Challenged to Write an Epigram in the Manner of Herrick

© Sir Walter Raleigh

To Griggs, that learned man, in many a bygone session,
His kids were his delight, and physics his profession;
Now Griggs, grown old and glum, and less intent on knowledge,
Physics himself at home, and sends his kids to college.

Behold, from the land of the farther suns

© Stephen Crane

Behold, from the land of the farther suns
I returned.
And I was in a reptile-swarming place,
Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces,

In The Kalahari Desert

© Craig Raine

The sun rose like a tarnished
looking-glass to catch the sunand flash His hot message
at the missionaries below--Isabella and the Rev. Roger Price,
and the Helmores with a broken axleleft, two days behind, at Fever Ponds.

An Attempt At Jealousy

© Craig Raine

So how is life with your new bloke?
Simpler, I bet. Just one stroke
of his quivering oar and the skin
of the Thames goes into a spin,

A Martian Sends A Postcard Home

© Craig Raine

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
and some are treasured for their markings --they cause the eyes to melt
or the body to shriek without pain.I have never seen one fly, but
sometimes they perch on the hand.Mist is when the sky is tired of flight

Still

© Wislawa Szymborska

In sealed box cars travel
names across the land,
and how far they will travel so,
and will they ever get out,
don't ask, I won't say, I don't know.

Going Home

© Wislawa Szymborska

He came home. Said nothing.
It was clear, though, that something had gone wrong.
He lay down fully dressed.
Pulled the blanket over his head.

Women's Rights

© Annie Louisa Walker

You cannot rob us of the rights we cherish,
Nor turn our thoughts away
From the bright picture of a "Woman's Mission"
Our hearts portray.

The Daguerreotype

© William Vaughn Moody

This, then, is she,
My mother as she looked at seventeen,
When she first met my father. Young incredibly,
Younger than spring, without the faintest trace

On a Soldier Fallen in the Philippines

Streets of the roaring town,
Hush for him, hus, be still!
He comes, who was stricken down
Doing the word of our will.

Gloucester Moods

A mile behind is Gloucester town
Where the flishing fleets put in,
A mile ahead the land dips down
And the woods and farms begin.

Saturday At The Border

Here I am writing my first villanelle
At seventy-two, and feeling old and tired--
"Hey, Pops, why dontcha give us the old death knell?"--

Jane and Eliza

© Ann Taylor

There were two little girls, neither handsome nor plain;
One's name was Eliza, the other's was Jane:
They were both of one height, as I've heard people say,
They were both of one age, I believe, to a day.