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Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Watercolour Guitar

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

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Watercolour Guitar By Ivan Jenson Sometimes  you  are  difficult as  painting with watercolors I have to let you flow because flooding your senses might make your colors bleed sometimes you are easy as the guitar I strum the strings of your hair and  suddenly a song Ivan Jenson’s […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, To All the Music I Will Never Hear

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

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears To All the Music I Will Never Hear By Louis Gallo You’re driving around, switching stations, and out flows a new Beatles song, something you’d missed, or, shifting to NPR, a little Mozart motet takes you unaware. So much lost throughout history, no archeological remains, vanished, no trace, […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Night and Day

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

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Night and Day (based on Imogen Heap’s “Between the Sheets”) By Jenny Billings Beaver You always wanted me between the sheets. For you, it doesn’t get better than this. Tracing patterns where your supple lips meet, I leave you transfixed in absolute bliss. Oh, come back, sweet sleepless, […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Coda

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

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Coda By Michael K Gause Pitch black, I need to hear screaming down the street and that eternal hymn of our weakness Swears mingle with moist cool air like drunk brass arguing over the tempo An organ of tires comes screeching so I do not miss a moment’s […]


Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears, Donetsk 2009

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

Contributor Series 9: If Men Had Ears Donetsk 2009 By Darryl Willis The Beatles stand frozen in Liverpool: songs etched on empty lips. Only tourists stop to wonder. Eleanor wanders between lifeless roses, shadows caressing her face. And in a park nearby Lenin stands alone: a nowhere man. Children have all but forgotten the dreams […]


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