Gettysburg Review
Gettysburg College | Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

Poetry

“Lament”

by Katharine Jager

Who weeps for cracked bluestone

pavements? For flowering lindens, their havoc
wrought on lung and sinus, for the flower
shops laden with peonies each winter?

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“Song”

by Lynn Domina

The body says, I am a galaxy. Choose
sixteen or seven or ten stars and write your story
within their image: dragon, swan, virgin.
Your story will exceed the stars’ boundaries.

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“Psalm with Doors and Windows Open”

by Richard Lyons

The trees distract my attention and remember me as a passing,
as do the open windows and doors, and a flashing bicyclist
and a line of schoolkids on a rope between their tenders.
I move uneasily across a bridge, my hair gusting.
I’ve forgotten my little hat with the brim so I fret a little.

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“See Coast Hurrying into Sea”

by Amy McCann

Didn’t it doily me? Wave-lace
tatting my ankles in an uneven

hem. A forgotten umbrella, a foraging
for shells—those vacant, softly

howling dwellings. . . .

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“America Mix-Tape, Track 54”

by Jason Myers

We are living in paradise.
The front desk is open twenty-four hours,
the police speak seven languages and don’t dwell
on the insults they’ve endured, the hurts they’ve overheard.

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“Raiders of the Eskaton”

by Philip St. Clair

. . . when the Rapture comes, they will be taken up
only halfway: forever suspended in the middle of the clouds
    as the checkerboard earth and the vast blank oceans
revolve beneath, as cryptic patterns left by intercontinental jets
    slowly fade away against the blue-black dome above.

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“Face”

by Dorothy Barresi

I don’t look at my face
in the mirror much anymore.
It has its life, I have mine.

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“ ‘In a State of Intoxication’ ”

by Sandra Beasley

The navel corresponds to the omphalos.
A corner corresponds to a right angle.
A spoon corresponds against its bowl—
curve to curve, an efficiency of emptying.

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“Hazel”

by Nancy Zafris

I saw her at a party where no
one was having fun except her.
It was a celebration of profits
and the long hours of billable work.

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“As If We Had No Other Place to Go than X”

by Edward Mayes

As if we had no other place to go than X
Or the precursor of X or the dreamy state

Of X, where our bodies have windows
Instead of shadows, where we pass through

The first doorway ever conceived . . .

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