MONKS Danielle Chapman I’ve met one named Phoenix Jiránek, ringleted and effusing “contuition” as gaily as a Franciscan in a boat eating honeycakes with an angel. Thus the Lord showed me both...
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KUMQUAT Danielle Chapman A kumquat bush crouches in the sedge at playground’s edge and I stand in the sand mashing one of its persimmon thumbs till oil prickles perfume pills on...
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POETRY SAINT’S NOVELLA Danielle Chapman I saw a rose tree high as the cypresses In a place Pomponius or Saturus had torn Violets all over the grass The rose tree was the brilliant, never-Written...
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POETRY LEAVING BOSTON AGAIN Danielle Chapman When I woke out of my reverie (thank you Jesus thank you Jesus thank you Jesus the scans weren’t worse and make my life a testimony to your...
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POETRY Two Poems by Danielle Chapman LEAVING BOSTON Burgundy geometries of waiting chairs recede and magazines flap open behind us as we smack through overpasses like waves of a whopping...
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ADVENT I hear the refrigerator's hum turn over, the seltzer's minareting spores while downstairs the girls direct a play in which a scored balloon named Lily Amulet is lain in her bassinet...
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GOOD FRIDAY MIGRAINE A bird, undeterred, tries to squeak juice from April ice as crocuses wince behind black snow though through the window I wade into yellow warmth as if into the aural...
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AFTER ASHBERY For Olivia Sky blushes upward like Whiffenpoofs or shirred eggs weeping the gold-leafed hair of Venetian friars as I accumulate Italy through texts: You craning to sip espresso on...
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