Poetry

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Gaslight­ing the Goose Poetry By Pamela Wax Con­sid­er how having a uterus made one suspect, how the Egyp­tians com­pared the womb to a beast besieg­ing the female body; how the Greeks pre­scribed wine and orgies; Freud, mar­riage. How…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Sinter Poetry By Leath Tonino he saw, after she had died, the source of great­est sorrow: they had not sung togeth­er.   they had sung, they had sung, but not enough.   saw it clear, like…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Cres­cent Shaped Dents in the Palms of My Hands Poetry By Bonnie Markows­ki christ­mas morning, 1968   1. Irish coffee at dinner. The aroma of roasted beans can’t mask   that smell that smell   whiskey …

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Sand­piper Poetry By Adriana Stimola I saw a sand­piper trace the place the sea rubs her belly on January sand. Only, this bird, it was missing a foot, so I stared, hard enough for tears to come, then looked…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA reader, i’m sorry if this image is now yours to carry too Poetry By BEE LB my mother’s on the phone with my brother who said he wrote me a letter but didn’t. i told her to ask…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA We Know That Our Emper­ors Are Naked*A Double Sonnet of Sorts Poetry By Mary Rohrer-Dann Full moon. High tide. High seas. Pacific sweeps  across the 101, laps the dunes,  forces our patio dining indoors  where waves slam the plate-glass…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Dear Moranda Smith Poetry By Richard Hamil­ton The last fretful hour mending poems.   It is my job to see a blade of grass, a blade of blood working beneath  the Warhol Museum. The Warho­las, after all,…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA The Rio Grande Poetry By Lizeth De La Luz Under water you are still an iri­des­cent trace of  corners pealed    sunbeam and sunset  stay with us  soul and dust     whisper of flame in hand you bloom  (________)    in…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA We Are Raw Poetry By Rishona Michael We steal four filet mignons for every workday of the week. Except Sunday we eat out, order Chicken Adobo, and I worry about one day no longer loving you. Most…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA Like A Song Poetry By Michael Lauch­lan We were shin­gling in the driz­zle­of another century—I guesswe needed the money—and Mel­called out. He was sliding toward the eaves on the far side­un­til Jerry rose and stretched down­from the peak…