Always
© by Pablo Neruda
I am not jealous
of what came before me.
Come with a man
on your shoulders,
come with a hundred men in your hair,
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Category: Recordings
My Girl (Recitation)
My Girl
by MWctn Far from the shorn lawn
that scratches my back
July-born breezes brushing
cool upon my cheek
her catholic life
in cloistered circle
of the ones
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by MWctn Far from the shorn lawn
that scratches my back
July-born breezes brushing
cool upon my cheek
her catholic life
in cloistered circle
of the ones
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What’s in a Name (Recitation)
What’s in a Name
by MWctn https://www.centraltonothing.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Whats-in-a-Name-by-MWctn.mp3
She changed her name
though in her mind
and on the page
it stayed the same.
The frisson of a
newer sound to
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by MWctn https://www.centraltonothing.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Whats-in-a-Name-by-MWctn.mp3
She changed her name
though in her mind
and on the page
it stayed the same.
The frisson of a
newer sound to
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Morning © by Deborah Ager
Morning
© by Deborah Ager You know how it is waking
from a dream certain you can fly
and that someone, long gone, returned and you are filled with
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© by Deborah Ager You know how it is waking
from a dream certain you can fly
and that someone, long gone, returned and you are filled with
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The Minotaur © by Eva H.D.
The Minotaur
© by Eva H.D. I am the milkman, and the checkout girl.
I am the grocer, the conman, the faded saint
in the pawnshop window.
I am
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© by Eva H.D. I am the milkman, and the checkout girl.
I am the grocer, the conman, the faded saint
in the pawnshop window.
I am
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East India Grill Villanelle © by Cecilia Woloch
East India Grill Villanelle
© by Cecilia Woloch Across the table, Bridget sneaks a smile;
she’s caught me staring past her at the man
who brings us curried dishes,
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© by Cecilia Woloch Across the table, Bridget sneaks a smile;
she’s caught me staring past her at the man
who brings us curried dishes,
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Mrs. M.P. (Recitation)
Mrs. M.P.
by MWctn She did not send me my voice,
nor the words, nor the choices
I made to render sentences
in metered rhythms (or
cadences within the
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by MWctn She did not send me my voice,
nor the words, nor the choices
I made to render sentences
in metered rhythms (or
cadences within the
» Explore the rest...
Nursing You © by Erica Jong
Nursing You
© by Erica Jong On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little
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© by Erica Jong On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little
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She Told Me the Earth Loves Us © by Anne Haven McDonnell
She Told Me the Earth Loves Us
© by Anne Haven McDonnell She said it softly, without a need
for conviction or romance.
After everything? I asked, ashamed. That’s
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© by Anne Haven McDonnell She said it softly, without a need
for conviction or romance.
After everything? I asked, ashamed. That’s
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Womanhood © by Catherine Anderson
Womanhood
© by Catherine Anderson She slides over
the hot upholstery
of her mother’s car,
this schoolgirl of fifteen
who loves humming & swaying
with the radio.
Her entry
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© by Catherine Anderson She slides over
the hot upholstery
of her mother’s car,
this schoolgirl of fifteen
who loves humming & swaying
with the radio.
Her entry
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