Tag Archives: Anne Marie Rooney

“She comes to me like money.” — Anne Marie Rooney in Jellyfish 7

5 Nov

Anne Marie Rooney dropped two poems inside the new Jellyfish, and they tremble tremble tremble in and out of life, in and out of me. WOW.

Offer you mother my peak. Parambulation. Parchment with parched

Wrists. Spent dry or decapitated. Center of scent which unplies me,

Multiplies. Entry and canter, dissenter and stop. Some amble-outing

Angle to mother my mangle. Angel in the ether. Offer you

Mother heart, chin, no neither. You take the breather from my barter,

Then smile down through it.

La Petite Zine

27 Apr

The new issue of La Petite Zine is up, and it’s chock full of good stuff.

Like this gem from Brooklyn Copeland, for instance:

To find the dagger a blessing

daggers find us tripping
onto praise—

stop singing mine—
           April’ s
                god’s a gun

I get the irony here, of course, praising Brooklyn’s poem “Straddling the Ides,” a poem that asks, “please // stop singing mine.” (Sorry, Brooklyn.)

Or this one from Anne Marie Rooney, titled “Film Mind“:

This is an idea,
Let it holler open in your skin, let it let
My mastery in, let it out.

I’m off the ‘net for now, making a short trip to Jacksonville, but I hope you make our way over to LPZ to read these poems in full and to check out the rest of this issue–you won’t be disappointed.