Try our 3 site flavors: Simple, Stylish, and Mobile. 

PoetryIssue 15 | June 2012

Two poems by Karen Greenbaum-Maya

In Exchange

August, Munich

Heat floats up off sidewalks
wide enough for troop movements.
Eiskaffe buzz lets me go blank.
After two tall ones, I can’t think.
The soft whipped cream schlags me
into a smoky stupor.
So hot, starlings wilt in the grass.
My shoelaces slip slack, then free.
Trash stench hits me at dawn at ten paces.
How can this work?  Why ask the question?
What blocks me now is not all mine.
A building I don’t see
holds an office I can’t find.
Summer dresses are in German.
Cygnets are gray-skinned German law students.
Cars honk in German, it’s my turf.
Cap-gun consonants eat up E for einsam, not Engel.
Trees caged in parks
  shade the odd man jerking off
  shade angry old women.

 1 2 >

About the author

Karen Greenbaum-Maya has been in wild places such as: Jasper, Alberta; Radium, British Columbia; Ray Lakes in the Sierras, and the Greyhound bus depot in downtown Los Angeles after dark. Places where she has passed for native include Munich, New York, Paris, and Portland (the Oregon one). She has placed poems and photographs in: Lilliput Review, Off the Coast, Sow’s Ear, Waccamaw and Word Gumbo.

Read our current issue:

Poetry

Three poems by Emma Aprile
Bulgarian Pantoum by Aileen Bassis
When You Get There by Kate Bernadette Benedict
To Get to Trondheimsfjord by Sue Chenette
The New Place by Sadie Ducet
A Funeral in Zarra by Joe Evans
Port Cities and Pantries by Christine Jones
Boston Graveyards by David Landrum
Morgan’s by Sean J Mahoney
Rats by Alexander Motyl
Tell Me The Road by Michael Pearce
Walls in Warsaw by Michael Sarnowski
Words I have traveled, sadly beyond by Janice D. Soderling
Pale Blues by Lynne Thompson

Postcard prose

Postcard by Marc Harshman
How to Cross the Widest Highway in the World by Maryann Ullmann