The Bangalore Review

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In the garden among flowersthe thick black ants make ecstatic highwaysover and into the sweet honeypot of cow-tongue peonies,the black-eyeds dip drunkenly into the foxgloves,all..

When I write to you, Hello,it’s marked with swollen      anticipation,and I wonderabout your interpretation:did I sound too curt?too friendly? too tender?too insecure?And when I write to..

The electric piano comes in. It’s a Hohner Pianet.The keys go:Duh-Duh, Abm, Db/Ab,Duh-Duh, Abm7(b5), Db/Ab,Lloyd Loar’s Vivi-Tone Clavier.[1]Sharp staccato hits. Brighter, with less sustain.Did you..

I don’t rememberif we kept any plants. If we fussed over themlike new parents worried that the waterwasn’t enough or the sun. I remember a..

I remember the missionaries’ daughter Alice at Tullahasee,eating sofke, writing a Creek dictionary in her room,the stick she used to correct the wrong Mvskoke girl,teacher’s..

They had nothing in commonbesides being smart New Yorky jews,Carl was a creator and my motheran other… while laughing listeninghis 2000-year-old man spinningin shiny blackness..

                           an ironic name to give a butterfly                           one gets the distinct impression                           deposed, have been                           in the bloodiest of purges                           in whispers we cheer them on                           from the shadowy sidelines                           eagerly..

Note: This poem is best viewed on a Desktop Computer with widescreen. The week before he was bornI dreamt only in blue, like paint names the..

I liked the feeling of being knifed to piecesand sent bleeding down a hilllike earth torn in torrential rainsracing through an innocent village                                  I might..

I never wanted a homenor a Lotus Sutra    I am not a lotus eater    a homeis a place to hanghistory floatingin etymologicalsoundfacts    a privilegethat is created..

Take us ornately hanging girls  composed of candles and scintillating light, as sacred as bael fruit. It is our wild-born nature to cling to the..

Blue light on dark rivers, blue notes floating in veils of wind          down chasms of blue canyonswhose denouement issuesinto fields of tiny bluets limning the dawn. I..