April 15, 2024

National Poetry Month 2024: 5 Poems by Charles Rammelkamp

National Poetry Month 2024: 5 Poems by Charles Rammelkamp

We continue this week in NPM with another frequent contributor, Charles Rammelkamp. This collection of Charles’ poems will take you on a narrative journey through the eyes of an interesting and very notable character. Cab Driver  Of all the people to almost run over! Anybody else, I’d have shrugged an apology, been on my way back home to Baltimore.  I’d come to the intersection  of H Street and Jackson Place,  maybe took the corner too sharp, veering in toward the curb, but I didn’t hit him, didn’t even come close to running Coolidge over!  But then the secret service guy, a different one from the one who grabbed Cal’s arm, jumped onto my running board, startled the hell out of me. “Who are you?” I demanded. “A secret service agent.”  He called over to a street cop, had me arrested, charged me with cutting corners, failing  to give the right…

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April 10, 2024

Michael Larrain’s “The Life of A Private Eye”

Michael Larrain’s “The Life of A Private Eye”

As we continue to celebrate National Poetry Month, Here is Part 3 of Michal Larrain’s epic poem. Thanks to those who have shared Comments – the author and your editors would love to hear what you think! This new episode, in our opinion, is a real doozy – and so is Katherine Willmore’s exclusive, exemplary artistic rendering. Watch for it! The Life of A Private Eye A Noirvelette in Verse By Michael Larrain Part 3: The Spider Pool She had trained enormous Amazonian butterflies, each the size of a man’s hand, to land upon her person in a pattern either random or preordained, and stay there for a space of hours, forming a living evening gown, their wings slowly fanning, black and green bands of breathing velvet. Speculation was running rampant as to her technique….

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April 9, 2024

National Poetry Month 2024: 3 Poems by Salvatore Difalco

National Poetry Month 2024: 3 Poems by Salvatore Difalco

National Poetry Month continues on strong with long time FC contributor Salvatore Difalco. Difalco has proven himself in the past to be a master of imagery, and he delivers once again with these touching poems. Take a look, you won’t be disappointed! Bleeding From The Ears  I feel like the moon is attacking me tonight  under the crosshatched shade of palm trees,  my amnesia an impenetrable white wall.  If I see stars they do not shine above,  they shine inside my head, among its clouds.  I wear a rumpled sheet, my clothes  and shoes nowhere to be found.  The palm trees sigh like sleepy aunts,  but do not speak of the laguna and the black  surrounding hills. Shapes advance  and withdraw in the charcoal darkness,   accompanied by flashes of eyes.  Nothing comes to me, nothing,…

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April 8, 2024

2024 Cow Creek Chapbook Prize

2024 Cow Creek Chapbook Prize

*Featured image courtesy of Alvaro Serrano on Unsplash Attention all poets! In honor of National Poetry Month, we want to bring your attention to a contest by Cow Creek Chapbook. Check out the information below if you are interested. From Cow Creek Chapbook: Judge – Traci Brimhall Submission Deadline – May 15th, 2024Style and Subject – As long as the poems challenge and capture the imagination, we want to see them.Prize – $1,000 and 25 author copies.Submit – For more guidelines and our submission portal, visit our website: https://www.cowcreekchapbook.org/ Best of luck to anyone that submits. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you win, we love to show off our writers!

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April 3, 2024

Michael Larrain’s “The Life of A Private Eye”

Michael Larrain’s “The Life of A Private Eye”

Part 2 of the Epic Poem about a Los Angeles Private Eye If you’ve already read Part 1, you’re probably eager to read Part 2. If you haven’t read Part 1, then you oughta. Then you’ll want to read Part 2, because before you can finish it, next week we’ll publish Part 3. The Life of A Private Eye a Noirvelette by Michael Larrain Original Artwork by Katherine Willmore for James Crumley, in memoriam Part 2 How could I be dizzy if I didn’t exist? was my first question. I was asleep one moment and the next being carried on a sedan chair through tall rustling cornstalks by even taller women’s beach volleyball players whose legs went straight to the penthouse. When their shoulders touched the corn, it turned into salt water and they were…

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