J.R. Solonche Request When the man in the next room died, his daughter gave his flowers to the nurses, so Emily, listen to me, when I am the man in the next room, give my flowers to the ugliest nurse only. J.R. Solonche is the author of ten books of poetry and a frequent contributor […]
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J.R. Solonche “After a Chinese Poem”
J.R. Solonche After a Chinese Poem Not eager for news, I am the recluse who will not answer the door for fear he will open to one who comes this near only to ask the way to another’s house. J.R. Solonche is the author of eight books of poetry.
Read MoreJ. R. Solonche “The Moon Over the Hill Outside My Window in the Middle of the Day”
J. R. Solonche The Moon Over the Hill Outside My Window in the Middle of the Day O, old over-the-hill movie star, so that’s what you look like without all the face powder. J.R. Solonche is the author of eight books of poetry.
Read MoreJ.R. Solonche “January”
J.R. Solonche January The lake is freezing over, but whose voice is that, the voice of the ice or the voice of the water? J.R. Solonche is the author of eight books of poetry.
Read MoreJ. R. Solonche “If Trees Could Weep”
J. R. Solonche If Trees Could Weep If pine and oak, ash and larch, sassafras and sycamore, if all of them could weep, they should weep like the weeping cherry tree whose snow white tears are more beautiful than laughter. J.R. Solonche is the author of eight books of poetry, whose work has appeared many […]
Read MoreJ. R. Solonche “The House to Myself This Afternoon”
J. R. Solonche The House to Myself This Afternoon The house to myself this afternoon, I could go upstairs and lie on my back in the spare room, on the sofa, my head on two or three pillows, my legs folded up with somebody’s book on my knees, in the sun from my chest up, […]
Read MoreJ. R. Solonche “The Pine Two-by-Four”
J. R. Solonche The Pine Two-by-Four The pine two-by-four, now newly sawn exactly by the carpenter, smells exactly like a newborn. J. R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines since the ’70s and is the author of six poetry collections.
Read MoreJ. R. Solonche “Wild Turkeys”
J. R. Solonche Wild Turkeys Like dirty oil from an old truck, the wild turkeys leak out of the woods and across the road, black drop, by black drop, by black drop. J. R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines, journals, and anthologies since the early 70s and is author of six poetry collections.
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