2012 — The Monarch Review — Page 15
A Lost Art – Lindsay Brand
Tuesday, March 20, 2012 13:44 — 0 Comments
Fifty years ago, I was a young man. Like most young men, I was full of vigor and passion. I fancied myself a poet. Conchita went with me to the bullfight once. That was the night I whispered a few lines of Pablo Neruda to her and she kissed me on the mouth. I will always remember how the taste of her lips mingled with the reverberating cries of “¡ole!†My son wants to see the rodeo Americans are promoting in Guadalajara, so we go. An older lady clutching a small billfold leans over to her friend behind me and […]
The Woman At The Bar – James Brantingham
Tuesday, March 13, 2012 14:45 — 0 Comments
The bar at the restaurant was busy. The gentleman asked the lady if he could sit in the chair next to her—the last chair to be found. She mouthed a quick ok—the kind of ok that says that she’d rather be kissed by a belching camel but that civility dictated politeness. He ordered a beer, careful not to look too long, or longingly, at the woman next to him. He did sneak a glance in her direction, though, when he asked to sit next to her. She was plain, no cover model for sure, but he did notice a sparkle […]
The Dream Of A Laboratory – Mikl Paul
Tuesday, March 6, 2012 12:44 — 1 Comment
One of them was holding the moon gentle palmed finger curled. The other knew; had studied; had repeated love a time and a time again, just to check the list so fine. This was science, she said into his tongue. They walked quietly, the sound of rings, the sound of falling cautions traced the path out before them, through the apartment, into the recipe of their bed. “Remember when,†she asks, “we were driving through those middle places and I told you that your hand on my thigh was cocoon to me?†He nods, she takes him in […]
May 24, 1934 – M. A. Schaffner
Monday, March 5, 2012 13:21 — 0 Comments
They found the stiff in the house on Seward Square, wrapped in one of Nanny’s towels. Bad business
The Gardener – Cathy Farrell
Wednesday, February 29, 2012 13:16 — 1 Comment
He used that big heavy iron key to lock the front gate. The gate in front of their house. You could just hop over it to get beyond it, so the key was really just a symbol of security, a pretense of privacy. The gate led to his garden, that he took such pride in. The neighbor ladies would always stop on their way to the market or their way home from church to admire his roses, his dahlias, his tomatoes. My grandmother and I always marveled at how he could stand by the gate and carry on such long […]
After The Party Pantoum – Rachel Kessler
Tuesday, February 28, 2012 13:10 — 0 Comments
Working that walk so hard it hurts,
GLASS NEGATIVES DRYING ON THE WINDOWSILL – Sierra Nelson
Thursday, February 23, 2012 13:34 — 1 Comment
An amusing detail once noticed is riveting.
What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
