Over the past year Vievee Francis has received well-deserved recognition for her latest collection, Forest Primeval, which won both the 2016 Hurston/Wright Legacy Award and the 2017 Kingsley Tufts Award. Her previous book, Horse in the Dark, won the Cave Canem Northwestern University Poetry Prize for a second collection, and her first, Blue-Tail Fly, preceded a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers’ Award. Since the publication of Forest Primeval, Francis has been working on a fourth collection, and at The Common we’ve had the honor and the pleasure of presenting some of her new poems: “On Leaving the Mountains and Coming to the City I Thought I Left For Good” and “The Beauty of Boys Is” appear in Issue 13, Spring 2017, and “This Morning I Miss Such Devotion” is forthcoming in Issue 14, Fall 2017. Here is “’Moan Soft Like You Wanted Somebody Terrible,’” our Poetry Feature for the month of June.
Poetry
May 2017 Poetry Feature
This May, we’re celebrating spring with new work by three of our contributors.
Flavored Graffito
Agrigento, Sicily
Piz-stack-eee-oh, Graffito registers, the word flooding his noggin
like the weed-choked shrubs crowding what should-be-a-more-
pregnant vacuity surrounding what little remains of Demeter’s
Twenty Minutes at the Clam Shack
By CASSIE PRUYN
Beneath a chalk-white winter sky,
her diamond studs gleam.
We sit parked in the Clam Shack lot, halfway
between her house and mine,
in her mother’s luxury SUV. Her alibi this time:
Christmas shopping for her mother on Newbury Street.
Lesson for Cortney
after Lewis Holt
Those are traffic lights. They help stop people from
driving into each other. That’s a crescent moon and star
on top of that building. It means the people inside are part
of The Nation. That’s a gas station. That’s a McDonald’s.
That’s a Burger King. That’s a fried fish and chicken joint.
The Hotel Belvedere
A June day under the Jungfrau.
Near the railway that brought her here,
an old woman sits on a bench.
She isn’t facing the Jungfrau
but the Hotel Belvedere
Two Poems in the Courtly Manner
By DAVID LEHMAN
1.
Gather ye rosebuds come what may,
Old time’s a frequent flyer,
And many lovers that link today
May soon be forced to retire.
Let each of us have one, each of us be one
Soul unlinking from its mate in the past
To eat the golden apples of the sun.
Youth fondly supposes it will last.
April 2017 Poetry Feature
At The Common, we’re celebrating Poetry Month with new work by five of our contributors.
Fayum Portrait [Deal]
I’ve sent a map on wax paper–
What he loves arrayed as clumsy petals.
If it arrives,
someone will ink it in his back,
so it will go with him
like a paw stuffed in a casing,
boardwalk mojo to ward off the hail of RPG, AK,
FOB after FOB, Amputee Ward, TBI, Arlington.
We’ll Always Have Parents
It isn’t what he said in Casablanca
and it isn’t strictly true. Nonetheless
we’ll always have them, much as we have Paris.
March 2017 Poetry Feature
At The Common we’re welcoming spring with new poetry by our contributors. (Be sure to listen to the audio link to Megan Fernandes’ “White People Always Want to Tell Me…,” read by the author.)
Motel
By ZACK STRAIT
There is a dark blue bible in the nightstand, a pitcher and torch
stamped on the cover in gold. I rub this symbol
with my thumb and I am comforted, knowing another
man was in this room before me, just to
place his light here.