Poems by Charles Kell, Katha Pollitt, and Lynne Knight

~
when I opened his bed-
room door, staring, 
for a second.

He never noticed, 
or woke, if sleeping . . . 
--From "My Father Sick, resting with a Rag Covering his Face," a poem by Charles Kell, Linden Avenue, No. 61 (June 2017).

When I was a child I understood everything
about, for example, futility.  Standing for hours
on the hot asphalt outfield, trudging for balls
I'd ask myself, how many times will I have to perform
this pointless task, and all the others?
--From "What I Understood," a poem by Katha Pollitt, from her collection The Mind-Body Problem (Random House, 2009).  (Thanks to José Angel Araguz for drawing my attention to the poem via this blog post, which includes the poem in full.)

We were near a waterfall when he asked
if I'd marry him.  I said yes
because he was kind to my daughter

and my mistakes of the past few years
had taught me that being smart isn't everything: 
I was smart, and look what I'd done . . . 
--From "The Waterfall," a poem by Lynne Knight, from her collection The Persistence of Longing (Terrapin Books, 2016), p. 25.  "The Waterfall" originally appeared in The Gathering 11.

We broke things.  Glasses, a lead crystal vase, 
the ceramic chicken painted à la portuguaise. 
--From "Survival," a poem by Lynne Knight, from her collection The Persistence of Longing (Terrapin Books, 2016), p. 26.  "Survival" originally appeared in Green Mountains Review.  It also appeared in Poetry Daily (November 10, 2016).

I used to wait at the window for lake-effect snow.
First wind, then then a thin smattering of flakes . . . 
--From "The Snow Couple," a poem by Lynne Knight, from her collection The Persistence of Longing (Terrapin Books, 2016), pp. 27-28.  "The Snow Couple" originally appeared in Marin Poetry Center Anthology.

Poems by Adam Chiles and Darren C. Demaree, and a novel-in-stories by Alice Munro

~
MY FATHER'S HEARING AID

seemed lost without his ear, a silenced spigot, 
adrift without a doorway, . . . 
--From "My Father's Hearing Aid," a gorgeous poem by Adam Chiles, on a broadside with artwork by Cheryl Gross, Broadsided Press (June 1, 2017).

I took 
a lot
of time

to think 
about
the epic . . . 
--From "Warm #115," a poem by Darren C. Demaree, Gnarled Oak (November 10, 2016).

"What do you want?" she said softly to Anna.  Instead of answering, Anna called out for Patrick.  When he came she sat up and pulled them both down on the bed, one on each side of her.  She held on to them, and began to sob and shake.  A violently dramatic child, sometimes, a bare blade.

"You don't have to," she said.  "You don't have fights anymore." 
--From "Providence," a short story by Alice Munro, from her collection of interconnected stories about a woman and her stepmother, The Beggar Maid: Stories of Rose and Flo (Vintage, 1977).  "Providence" (pp. 137-155 in the 1991 paperback version of the book) was originally published in Redbook (August 1977).