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Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone, What Time Is Left

12.23.10 Posted in Contributor Series 7, today's words by

Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone What Time Is Left By Salvatore Buttaci we’ll begin right now to count down the years we’ll do it moment by moment keep two huge jars one for the salvageable the other for whatever time we consider unworthy all those stumbling hours those muddy potholes that can […]


Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone, Old Bones

12.22.10 Posted in Contributor Series 7, today's words by

Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone Old Bones By Bobbie Troy dying crops in brown fields dried bones of old age Bobbie’s most recent poem to appear at vox poetica was Surviving Auschwitz, published in November.


Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone, Sarah’s Eyes

12.22.10 Posted in Contributor Series 7, words to linger on by

Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone Sarah’s Eyes By Dee Thompson I have come to understand that memory is biological. When I look at the photos of my Cherokee great great grandmother Sarah, her tiny skull, her sad eyes, I feel her despair. I have no words for her story, only legends and […]


Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone, Friends of a Feather

12.21.10 Posted in Contributor Series 7, today's words by

Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone Friends of a Feather By Clarissa McFairy When my bones are old and creaking like door hinges in haunted rooms And my laugh is crisp and crackly like autumn leaves underfoot And winter goes ice skating on my marbly shoulder blades, I shall have a feather boa […]


Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone, Resurrection

12.20.10 Posted in Contributor Series 7, today's words by

Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone Resurrection By Joanna S Lee I dig myself into the hollows of your cheeks, brush the grit from lashes tangling your two eyes into glossy caverns with ripples troubling just behind the iris; tokens of a time that will wash clean the maleficence from memory like a […]


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