Tag Archives: M. J. Iuppa

Aperture

            ~ Glencar Valley, Ireland, 2019 Fog in the valley, then searing sunlight. A bouncy lane to a glacier lake. Water without wind, a slow-moving sky. Remote—impression of Alps—a raven watches us—glistening in this vastness. M. J. Iuppa’s fourth poetry collection … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

End of Winter

            Not yet mid-March, and it’s sixty-four degrees, I can hardly contain my desire to stop at the side of the road & walk empty-handed over old ties, over tracks that separate gravel lots from beaches to stand before Ontario’s chilly … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Hair(cut)

In your hands, the scissors snip with a precision that is and isn’t exact. My silver curls fall away from my head in slow motion and tumble down the length of my body, falling beneath my kitchen chair that sits on … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Metaphysics of Crossword Puzzles

I want to pass time in bed with its mess of quilts and pillows & luxury of breakfast—toast, I presume—and brewed coffee, and an egg, soft- boiled, poised in its porcelain cup; and the daily news with its debate and … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Tensions

By virtue that’s inherent—a pursuit of happiness—he tells me, the garden is set to grow in thirteen raised beds. We wait, wanting the best of everything, but in our own bed, we doubt what we have done. All night, silence … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

In Other Words

Rising in morning’s half-shadows, in the purr of rain caught in the back of the gutter’s throat, I gather ripe tomatoes sitting in flats on the porch and bring them in to be processed in the steamy kitchen where pots … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 3 Comments

Interrogation

Sitting here, on this paint-peeling bench, with two squirmy kids eating sloppy cones, and three tethered dogs standing guard, waiting for my signal. I’m wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, so I can be distracted without anyone knowing how I count … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Tagged | Leave a comment