February 4-10, 2020: Poetry from Richard Widerkehr and Carrie Radna


Richard Widerkehr and Carrie Radna

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Richard Widerkehr
fordwid@aol.com

Bio (auto)

Richard Widerkehr’s work has appeared in Poetry Super Highway, Rattle, Writer’s Almanac, Verse Daily, Atlanta Review, Arts & Letters, and many others. He earned his M.A. from Columbia University and won two Hopwood first prizes for poetry at the University of Michigan. His latest book is In The Presence Of Absence (MoonPath Press). He also has three chapbooks and a novel, Sedimental Journey (Tarragon Books). He reads poems for Shark Reef Review.

The following work is Copyright © 2020, and owned by Richard Widerkehr and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


In A Living Room Near Squalicum Mountain

When the pale sky lets in a chink of light over the rim
of the foothills, we can’t help glancing at the sun.
Last night’s news tasted like salt. Still half-asleep,
we wait, as if for a brand-new diaspora,

a city with bread and honey. As the coffee maker
brews our coffee, and the sun gets round,
more golden, we touch each other, almost afraid.
Sun like a wind, scattered from the edge

of a nebula. After two cups of coffee, I read
how police traced our latest murderer
to the Red Roof Inn near Round Rock, Texas.

How strange, to stand as witnesses this morning.
Our phone rings, numbers flash on the panel. Not in use,
says the machine. The sun, this blinding gift—

 

 

 


Carrie Radna
ambikamag@msn.com

Bio (auto)

Carrie Magness Radna is an archival audiovisual cataloger at the New York Public Library, a singer, a lyricist-songwriter, and a poet who loves to travel. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Muddy River Poetry Review, Mediterranean Poetry, Shot Glass Journal, First Literary Review-East, Nomad’s Choir, and The spirit, it travels: an anthology of transcendent poetry, edited by Nina Alverez (Cosmographia Books), The Poetic Bond VIII and The Poetic Bond IX (Willowdown Books), Poetry Super Highway, Polarity E-magazine and Tuck Magazine and will be published in Walt’s Corner and the upcoming anthology This OTHER time The Alien Buddha got so high (Alien Buddha Press). Her first chapbook, Conversations with dead composers at Carnegie Hall (Flutter Press), was published in January 2019, and her second chapbook, Remembering you as I go walking (Boxwood Star Press) was published on August 23, 2019. Her first poetry collection, Hurricanes Never Apologize, as published by Luchador Press in December 2019. She won the 12th prize of 2018 Writer’s Digest Poetry Awards for her poem “Lily (no. 48 of Women’s names sensual series)”.  Born in Norman, Oklahoma, she is a member of the Greater New York Music Library Association (GNYMLA), and is a member/have read/workshopped for the New York Poetry Forum, Parkside Poets, Riverside Poets, Brownstone Poets and Nomad’s Choir. When she’s not performing classical choral works with Riverside Choral Society or New Year’s Eve performances with the New York Festival Singers, or writing art song lyrics with her choir buddies, or penning her own folk songs for her chorus’ cabarets, or traveling, she lives with her husband Rudolf in Manhattan.

The following work is Copyright © 2020, and owned by Carrie Radna and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


all trains are haunted

good-natured buttered-up angels who tripped out from Heaven’s Bar
caught their glittery shoes & minds between whirlwinds & dead turnstiles
they ride the empty trains constantly, getting out of the cold rain
but all trains are haunted—
the lazy A that took us home after last Saturday
night’s gig at Washington Heights, perhaps a shade of its grandfather
took Sir Duke & Billy Strayhorn aboard towards Harlem in 1940
it’s still midnight, almost the end of the line for randy trains—
it’s now time to cruise over to Queens Plaza Yards, to sleep with warmed-up cars,
to romance that special one it met on the tracks at Hoyt-Schermerhorn
when they were hitched up for only a week—it never forgets
how it shined and smelled (no hobos slept in it)   
its chrome face made the other trains shiver on the tracks as they raced upon the third rail,
sparks flew—we rode the 1930s Vintage Special Train to West 4th Street—it was haunted
sputtering diesel as it rolled on slowly from Herald Square, the lights went out three times
& a man stood in the center aisle, wearing a fedora & a caramel-colored long coat
as the passengers held carved, cream-colored handles in the mint-colored interior—
all subway riders are haunted by events:
broken hearts, tough working-days, able-drunkenness, despair, boredom,
longing for home or excitement, in every time or age