Poetry – Page 74 – Michigan Quarterly Review

Poetry

Drifting amidst Fall—Big Carp River Valley (Porcupine Mountains State Park— Upper Michigan); photograph by Aaron C. Jors.

MQR 56:1 | Winter 2017

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In our Winter 2017 issue, Molly McQuade explores the music in Brooklyn, Craig McDaniel and Jean Robertson experience what painting is now, Steven Harvey discusses the other Steve Harvey, and Frank M. Meola reports on being a minority-minority.

Fiction from Marian Berges, Barrett Bowlin, Randy Nelson, Su Tong, Sergio Troncoso, Kathleen Winter, and Linda Woolford.

Poetry from Fleda Brown, Susan Cobin, Nancy Eimers, Dan Gerber, and Osip Mandelstam.

Plus: Piotr Florczyk reviews Mark Irwin’s “American Urn: Selected Poems.”

MQR 56:1 | Winter 2017 Read More »

In our Winter 2017 issue, Molly McQuade explores the music in Brooklyn, Craig McDaniel and Jean Robertson experience what painting is now, Steven Harvey discusses the other Steve Harvey, and Frank M. Meola reports on being a minority-minority.

Fiction from Marian Berges, Barrett Bowlin, Randy Nelson, Su Tong, Sergio Troncoso, Kathleen Winter, and Linda Woolford.

Poetry from Fleda Brown, Susan Cobin, Nancy Eimers, Dan Gerber, and Osip Mandelstam.

Plus: Piotr Florczyk reviews Mark Irwin’s “American Urn: Selected Poems.”

A Joke That Hits You Later: A Review of Natalie Shapero’s “Hard Child”

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Think of Shapero instead as a kind of poetic Louis C.K. — the misery is part of the act. Yes, you’re supposed to laugh: “All I have coming in this / world is a joke that hits me later.” And like the best stand-up comedy routines, her poems have solid opening hooks, a finely wrought structure, and a resonance, a truth, beyond what is directly expressed.

A Joke That Hits You Later: A Review of Natalie Shapero’s “Hard Child” Read More »

Think of Shapero instead as a kind of poetic Louis C.K. — the misery is part of the act. Yes, you’re supposed to laugh: “All I have coming in this / world is a joke that hits me later.” And like the best stand-up comedy routines, her poems have solid opening hooks, a finely wrought structure, and a resonance, a truth, beyond what is directly expressed.

“Ava Gardner Reincarnated as a Magnolia,” by Margaret Atwood

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Somehow I never succeeded / in being taken seriously. They made me / wear things that were ruffled: off-the- / shoulder blouses, the tiered skirts / of flouncing Spanish dancers, though I never / quite got the hauteur — I was always tempted / to wink, show instead of a tragic / outstretched neck, a slice of flank.

“Ava Gardner Reincarnated as a Magnolia,” by Margaret Atwood Read More »

Somehow I never succeeded / in being taken seriously. They made me / wear things that were ruffled: off-the- / shoulder blouses, the tiered skirts / of flouncing Spanish dancers, though I never / quite got the hauteur — I was always tempted / to wink, show instead of a tragic / outstretched neck, a slice of flank.

“Smoke,” by Eric Rivera

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I hide my cigarettes / under abandoned bricks / in the tall grass past / where I don’t cut, / between the siding / and the downspout / where my kids can’t reach, / under potted plants / their mother no longer waters.

“Smoke,” by Eric Rivera Read More »

I hide my cigarettes / under abandoned bricks / in the tall grass past / where I don’t cut, / between the siding / and the downspout / where my kids can’t reach, / under potted plants / their mother no longer waters.

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