Review: “In Vitro” by Leland Jamieson
As in his earlier book, Twentieth Century Bread, in In Vitro: New Short Rhyming Poems Post-9/11, poet Leland Jamieson paints a vivid landscape using rhyme and diction. A formal poet by nature, his best efforts are tightly-crafted examples of form meeting function. With his verse, he explores childhood memories, extols the beauty of nature, and contemplates the history of human life on earth. Jamieson’s poems about his youth are often sprawling but packed with detail, such as in the sestina “Sunshine,” where he begins with a compelling image: My cousin Jack and I, arms out...
Read MoreHaiku
three yellow maple leaves in a large brown bowl — red apple’s lingering scent Passion Contents
Read MoreCity Canyons
No matter how closely I press against the window, I can’t see the street below. An enormous skyscraper blocks my view. Nor can I see the sky. All the buildings rise so high, spread so wide, that I can see only the other windows opposite, perhaps ten stories up and ten stories down. On the other three sides it’s the same, the same view of steel and glass. Sometimes when I feel gloomy, I walk around my floor — the thirty-sixth floor in a tower of ninety stories — and try to find a corner where I can see the sky, but I haven’t found one yet. No one else seems to share my desire. When...
Read MoreA rank of clouds
A rank of clouds serried and clothespinned up which like a flock shocked by a sudden pop scatter in a swivet break up. Passion Contents
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