I never stopped to consider its less illicit pleasures: its syllables tumbling so readily off the tongue, the tongue slapping lightly, repeatedly, the roof of the mouth, the mouth left open, as if with expectation, or in surprise, or song—this solo which leaves you alone, holding the final note.
1) Rub two “Number 2” pencils together until you’ve worn a sort of saddle in each, exposing the graphite center. 2) Glue the saddle sides together carefully, forming a crucifix. 3) Glue the crucifix to a blank page of paper and hang it above your desk. 4) Think about it–all day if you wish. 5) […]
I say no sex is worth dying for, no man worth living with—nevermind for— I say Caution comma is my new first name, my old first name, my last— I say not even Death will know me. I know the first bite of any apple’s best: the one the mouth’s juices leap to meet, the […]
He imagines she’s boiling water for tea, he just sitting down to a Guinness and ribs. He remembers her kettle doesn’t whistle or sing as she’s been known to, just risks boiling over– it’s like her, he muses, to have a kettle like that, to think her singing strength enough. The beer obligingly beads the […]
April Ossmann talks about how she determines the form her poems will take.
April Ossmann, Executive Director of Alice James Books, and author of the forthcoming poetry collection, Anxious Music (Four Way Books, spring 2008), talks about how a poem she wishes she’d written.
April Ossmann, Executive Director of Alice James Books, and author of the forthcoming poetry collection, Anxious Music (Four Way Books, spring 2008), talks about how she was inspired to poetry and remembers the first poem she ever wrote.