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  December 2009
volume 7 number 3
-table of contents-
  home   (archived)
  featured poets
  Suzanne Frost
  Kristine Ong Muslim
  A.J. Odasso
  Nydia Rojas
  Paul Kareem Tayyar
  Florence Weinberger
  mailing list
A.J. Odasso December 2009



art by leigh white

    A.J.'s poetry has appeared in a number of strange and wonderful publications, including Sybil's Garage, Mythic Delirium, Jabberwocky, Cabinet des Fées, Midnight Echo, Not One of Us, Dreams & Nightmares, Goblin Fruit, Strange Horizons, Stone Telling, Farrago's Wainscot, Through the Gate, Liminality, inkscrawl, and Battersea Review. Her début collection, Lost Books (Flipped Eye Publishing, 2010), was nominated for the 2010 London New Poetry Award and for the 2011 Forward Prize, and was also a finalist for the 2011 People's Book Prize. Her second collection with Flipped Eye, The Dishonesty of Dreams, was released in August of 2014. Her two chapbooks, Devil's Road Down and Wanderlust, are available from Maverick Duck Press. She holds degrees from Wellesley College and the University of York (UK). She currently lives in Boston with her partner and a tank full of inquisitive freshwater fish. You can find her online at (and on also on Twitter).




You say what you'll always remember is the night
I took you to see the sea monsters. After dark

in November, the pond water would freeze
just enough: pristine thin glace brle filled

with catfish, water sprites no bigger than my hands
put together. We fed them coffee beans and toffees

from Godiva till they skimmed across the surface
like caffeine-powered sledges. All this for a lark.

What I'll always remember is moonlight
glinting off the ice, your tiny fingers

outstretched to catch our mingled laughter
as it rolled on parched air. Life made frost

and simplest love, in spite
of the biting cold.


For Alyce, with all my love
West Hartford, Connecticut
November 11, 2001

copyright 2009 A.J. Odasso



Grave Goods

We find a spotted volute not native
to these shoresbut, nonetheless,
a needful thing. Small terracotta vases
in the shapes of pomegranates bear paint
in two tones, sport river-ducks tainted
with lead. Also: regard the tumbled stones
shot with veins of crystallized quartz
as signs of sure finesse. And these cups
formed of love and Somerset clay,
you must take them as firm indication
of good taste. This lady did not lay
herself down without thought of the long
years to come, for this stark syndication
of some deityfaceless, throatless
seflessly held her, drank up her tears.

copyright 2009 A.J. Odasso