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Five radio poems

It is National Poetry Month. I love songs and poems that mention radio. Here are excerpts of some from The American Academy of Poets’ poetry.org site.

from Cognitive Deficit Market, by Joshua Corey

. . . . Meanwhile above it all

she’s setting out the tea things: ceramic cup and saucer,

little pewter spoon, pebbled iron pot, a slice

of Sara Lee. Waiting to remember

to turn the radio on, listen for the elevator, for

the lock to turn or a knock

on the door.

from deer & salt block, by Josha Marie Wilkinson

. . . Another boy listens to a radio

inside his pillowcase. One boy drinks coffee alone in the zookeeper’s shed. The last

boy casts a purple stone to the bottom of a pond & follows it down with his church

clothes on.

from Fiat Lux, by Lynda Hull

Static from the radio stippled grey as anesthesia dream,

band after band of voices,

the luminous bar of speedometer, column shift. Cruising,

the long battered car fogged in whiskey

breath, the sumptuous trash, canvas scraps, pasteled

bills of lading. Father and daughter—

from Honey, by Arielle Greenberg

. . . I dream I am guided

by an elderly couple in a dim farmhouse

to their morning radio and blackberry tea

and then given the combs which I snap

into my dry mouth where they fill and fill.

from A Fox’s Tail is Called a Brush, by Emily Pettit

. . . I hope your summer is being a good summer.

Grasses and radios. Get archaic. A hunter looking

for a streaming blue. You were in the weather.

You idea. A not new idea. A room. I got home

and my door was blue. It was a fox and a picture

of you.


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