It's just poetry, it won't bite

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Guitar Poem

07.07.11 Posted in Contributor Series 9, words to linger on by

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Guitar PoemBy Kenneth Karrer They have the keys to life For those who learn to make them sing. They’re wood and wire. Shaped, bent, molded, steamed, pressed, and fired Mother of pearled, Fretted F Holed, inlaid strung out of sinew from Muscle Shoals to Memphis from Austin to […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, rehabilitation in b minor

07.06.11 Posted in Contributor Series 9, today's words by

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears rehabilitation in b minor By Joanna S Lee in my house, there are Names that are never spoken, drawers that stay shut, songs never played. but this morning I picked up my left-strung guitar for the first time in lifetimes, its out-of-tune silvered sinews teaching me to forget […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Wet Walks with Otis Redding

07.05.11 Posted in Contributor Series 9, today's words by

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Wet Walks with Otis Redding By Charles Clifford Brooks III After strings kept the elderly reminded of my youth so apparently out of place I went out in a drizzle. I’ve got dreams, came between drags, dreams to remember …  The light of apartments held me from spheres spread […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Blues

07.04.11 Posted in Contributor Series 9, today's words by

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Blues By Alan Britt Blues is gospel, secular style. The hand of the blues belongs to Jim, on his raft  dreaming down the wild Mississippi when fires behind bull rushes and gambling with your soul were ways of life. Now, about your sad story of bankers  crumbling beneath […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Feeding Nancy

07.04.11 Posted in Contributor Series 9, words to linger on by

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Feeding NancyBy Paul Hostovsky She was my favorite sign language teacher, the one with the gentlest patience, her long intelligent fingers never tiring of song, of listening for song the way a hand listens for the rain. I have come to feed her dinner tonight in the hospital […]


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