Per Contra An International Journal of the Arts, Literature, and Ideas

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issue 35 > poetry

  • Springtime bursts its seams

    by Rosa Alice Branco. Translated by Alexis Levitin.

    Spring time bursts its seams.
    Girls water flowers
    the buttons of their blouses slipping free  

    More…
  • She came from the hills...

    by Rosa Alice Branco. Translated by Alexis Levitin.

    She came from the hills with a basket on her head
    and a round of goat cheese. She had full skirts
    and right away playful hands began to tease their way.

    More…
  • Two Decades in the South: A Memoir

    by Elizabeth J. Coleman

    Through the open
    window I heard
    a neighbor’s friend

    More…
  • What Began as an Ode to a Cabin in the Catskills

    by Elizabeth J. Coleman

    The stream sounds like my mother
            filling our bathtub,  porcelain
                  fat-fingered hot and cold 

    More…
  • Divining

    by Elizabeth J. Coleman

    Across from me at Laguardia, a man and his son
    chat quietly.  The young man’s cane has a red tip 

    More…
  • The Dining Room War, 1967

    by Claudia Gary

    At dinnertime the first volleys are fired
    above your fork, knife, spoon, chocolate-smeared plate.

    More…
  • Desserted

    by Claudia Gary

    The kind whose steady crush whispers between
    your teeth as you move closer to its flame
    of chocolate, knowing all along you mean
    to bask a moment, then repeat the game:

    More…
  • Vinegar

    by Stephen Gibson

    The ones I slept with—I was always sleeping with someone.
    The time you did—and said it was just a kiss in the hallway.

    More…
  • YouTube Animals

    by Stephen Gibson

    Spongiform brain disease: the cow, tormented with a prod,
    won’t stand, but still makes it to the dinner table in the film.

    More…
  • Breath

    by Lena Gluck

    I almost died at birth
    with my own umbilical cord
    as my noose. 

    More…
  • beloved iv

    by Donald Kuspit

    absence
           makes the heart
    wither,

    More…
  • beloved v

    by Donald Kuspit

    doubt is as necessary
                                 as night,
    foraging in shadows,

    More…
  • beloved vi

    by Donald Kuspit

    yet again words
                       to embolden our tie,
    to mark the plenitude,

    More…
  • beloved vii

    by Donald Kuspit

    you again,
                  bright there
    in the blackness,

    More…
  • Hunger

    by Harriet Levin

    Before he walked into the middle
    of the room and spoiled everything,
    she found in it
    a pasture for horses.

    More…
  • From: The Odes of Mørch

    by Torkilk Mørch. Translated by David R. Slavitt.

    ...Was there someone named Dan?  And the ogonek,

    that tail on the O that indicates nasalization.
    What can we make of that?...

    More…
  • Two Hymns from the Rig Veda

    by David R. Slavitt

    HYMN CLX. Heaven and Earth

    1 Heaven and Earth, bestow prosperity on all, sustainers of the region, wise holy ones,
                two noble bowls: between these goddesses the god, the radiant Sun, travels by fixed decree.

     

    HYMN CXCI. Water. Grass. Sun.

    1 Venomous, slightly or deadly, aquatic worms,
                stinging unobserved, have infected me with poison.

    More…
  • Up on the Mountainside

    by Lee Slonimsky

    I have to pause to feel my atoms spin,
    to flow with physics governing within,
    or else reality would merely be
    dry words in textbooks.  

    More…
  • Chance

    by Lee Slonimsky

    They looked alike: a certain trilobite
    and saw-toothed leaves, at one quick glance.

    More…
  • Fish

    by Alice Teeter

    In the bucket are fish
    your mother caught in the pond
    by her house above you on this mountain.

    More…
  • Your Mother's Porch

    by Alice Teeter

    Your mother’s porch wraps around the house
    on three sides, the veranda hangs over
    the mountainside way up there
    high above your little house below.

    More…
  • How Not to Raise a Son: A Trilogy

    by Lewis Turco

    My son told me last evening
    Something I did not know:
    How bad a father I had been
    While he had time to grow,

    More…
  • Thinking Out Loud

    by Lewis Turco

    "I think; therefore, I am," I think.
    I think I think I am, I think,
    But I can wink out in a blink --

    More…
  • Gerontology

    by Lewis Turco

    Consuming agues dwell in every vein;
    Rheum and catarrh do not exist in vain –
    When one grows old, life’s nothing but a pain. 

    More…

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