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Saturday, June 18, 2011

Hanging Loose 98




Hanging Loose 98

Hanging Loose Press

ISSN 0440-2316

2011 $9.00


Hanging Loose is consistent, the writing is modern and it tastes like
a wedding cake we devour twice a year. An old tradition is to take a slice of that wedding cake and set it under your pillow for a night. Magically the person you are to marry will appear in your dreams. So I've put this issue under my pillow.I don't get it, that is I don't dream of my next husband but I do get to read many good poems in many different forms.


"So

we can still hear the wicks of candles crumbling,

the spindled folding

of an umbrella in the hall.

Our lashes slowing like dying insects,

light hardening our bodies to salt.

When you go you'll leave a scent like lavender

or fog, maybe

on my pillow.

It takes little to start a religion,

so strong is the desire for grace

a visitation of light on your shoulder,

a kiss like sleepwalking in an open field."


There are 16 pages and 8 poets of high school age that I relate to in a big way"


"When you are in love,

the devil wears sundresses.

You forget the burn"


And each poem resonates with expectation. Each poem is masterful because the poemsare present and do not try to exceed the language of another age. Each poem ismiraculous in that it encompasses a timelessness. The poets marry their wordsto their voice.


"To those who cannot find what to believe in, there are always more possibilities hanging in the air than what anyone could ever wish for. Sometimes if you pokeit hard enough it will reluctantly give birth to an elephant, one that comes inselectable colors, much like furniture and the free toothbrushes dentists push ontheir patients. Likely being the patient in any given case, you really cannot refuse the free toothbrush, however swooningly maroon or fluorescently turquoise you have

chosen it to be, and likewise, such an elephant, manifest through the powers that beand a healthy amount of faith on your part, finds itself exceedingly hard to get rid of..."


If you miss this issue you'll miss what it means to become a poet.


"A.

In preschool you told your mom that you wanted to marry me. You told her that youwere going to get down on one knee and give me everything that you had, everything you could promise to offer. You told me about it only last year during chemistry class but sometimes we still laugh about it when we see each other..."




irene koronas


poetry editor:

Wilderness House Literary Review

www.whlreview.com


Reviewer


Ibbetson Street Press

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