Two Poems by Grant Matthew Jenkins
Marks Along the river valley who hears the cry of the raptors? Will you avail yourself of the talents at your
Grant Matthew Jenkins
Filter / Sort
Last Paperboys in Oklahoma Carry the News
At five am, thick bundles litter the front porch of the highway patrol, while all the newspaper boys in South Tulsa
Markham Johnson
The Deluge
After thirty-four days of rain we wake to mallards navigating the back lawn and four survivor squirrels beached on
Markham Johnson
The Ghost of Hank Williams Returns to Cain’s Ballroom
The last time, he was sitting on a stump in a cone of yellow light and cigarette smoke, and the bats
Markham Johnson
Eschatology
The neighborhood dogs are barking again: a chain letter cha-cha-cha that begins blocks away and rolls through the
Markham Johnson
routine
every evening after the six o’clock i ate dinner, something fast, sitting at the desk. eight tv screens, three
Quraysh Ali Lansana
Bible Belted: Math
Pro-Black doesn’t mean anti-anything. El Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X) there are at least
Quraysh Ali Lansana
“thrtthr whthrrthms” by Maria Damon
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Abby Wendle
Nearly Empty House
A path is worn smooth in the hardwood floor, heading out the front door. The window above the kitchen sink is cracked
Denis McGilvray
Hope
In the woods, in the deep hole I dug, beneath the power cable and the roots of box elder trees, down among the
Gordon Grice
Poetry and the News
POETRY AND THE NEWS by Scott Gregory 1. There’s a long poem by William Carlos Williams (from late in his
Scott Gregory
Handwritten Letter 1934 (a found poem)
Tulsa Okla. 10th April Mr. Henry Ford Detroit, Mich. Dear Sir. --- While I still have got breath in my
Scott Gregory
Driveway
Again I slid up over the horizon and the lights of Tulsa spread flat out before me. “Ah, there you are,” I
Ron Padgett
The Japanese Garden
In 1958 or ’59 when I was sixteen I came up with the idea of replacing my parents’ back yard with a Japanese
Ron Padgett
Driveway
Again I slid up over the horizon and the lights of Tulsa spread flat out before me. “Ah, there you are,” I
Ron Padgett
The Stringtown Prison Blues
A collaborative blues poem written by the Stringtown Prison Poetry Workshop. This time is so hard to do
This Land
Galarshes
drink me, rain says it’s hard to swallow the whole world dry so drink me everything tastes better in Oklahoma
Jennie Lloyd
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