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National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 6, 2014 | Archive, Feature

Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney   Is that why they keep the gate locked so I can know not to enter I am every girl on a bicycle and my hair feels good I want to say salty but river beside me oils a...
National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

National Poetry Month: ANATOMY (II) by Rachel Mennies

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 5, 2014 | Archive, Feature

Anatomy (II) by Rachel Mennies   Today I let a man touch me whose hands had been inside the dead. We make a habit of this: touching after anatomy lecture, after convocation with the cadavers, the basement of fumes and rubbery cold muscle. Together we reclaim the twin...
National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

National Poetry Month: [ANNA] by Julie Carr

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 4, 2014 | Archive, Feature

[Anna] by Julie Carr   Finds a bird’s nest in a pile of leaves. Tightly wound scraps of the news. Carries it into the house and sets it on the table.   After a while, she goes back out to play. The game she’s playing is called “Anna.” It’s a game in which...
National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

National Poetry Month: MALAMUTE by Jehanne Dubrow

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 3, 2014 | Archive, Feature

Malamute by Jehanne Dubrow   Honduras, 1947   Someone brought winter to the tropics. At first, it slept near the roots of a strangler tree, curled under chairs, licked salt from sweating ankles. It was content. Table scraps fed its belly. Breezes carried the...
National Poetry Month: Am I going to get raped in the park where I read my mother’s poem by Anne Marie Rooney

National Poetry Month: { } by Rachel Springer

by Black Warrior Review | Apr 2, 2014 | Archive, Feature

{ } by Rachel Springer   { } This is my war face whispering for you to get wet. Dark hair pelts you, pots & pans & pigtails clamoring. Had I a horse, I’d hold you to that. Slab on slab of hearing you call daddy, I say fuck me in that order. You give...
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