Category Archives: CPR Volume 20, Issue 2

CPR Volume 20, Issue 2, July, 2018

The Orchard Spider & The Grub
by Lauren Henley

Part I: The Orchard Spider

Every second a second of silk—
(I pour myself from myself

I AM the hand on the handle &

I AM also the handle

the headlong trajectory       the plash)

Weaving is easy this way
this way when you are the weaver
& the Thing being weaved
No needle no eye to thread no thread
just the umbilical-mouth breathing out silk
No matter if the orb gets torn
ransacked by Sun Bird or storm      I weave in my sleep
& sleep in the weave
weave heavy sleep into a fly

Come breakage      come labor

the labor is dulcet the labor is citrine

the labor is lapis the labor is me

 

Part II: The Orchard Spider & the Parasitic Grub

I came out of myself crooked today       some shadow some
needling thing threaded my eyes

a cause for hunger

Still I remember that first thread in the tusset grass
then ballooned up

Small thing       you are a heavy passenger

This is how I weave       you might as well see
since you are here now
always here now
soft heavy thing with a song in my brain

You are something I lost      dropped in my sleep
slipped from my web       now come back to rejoin?

I see you are not going & are growing
so I might as well love you       come

come closer still all the way       you who have not blown in
but have come from my rib      my head
come back into me      I have saved my strength for you

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 2.

Lauren HenleyLauren Henley won the 2017 Perugia Press Prize for Starshine Road, her second full-length collection. She received The Academy of American Poets University Award, The Duckabush Prize in Poetry, and two prizes from The Poet’s Billow. Starshine Road was a finalist or semi-finalist in several competitions.

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A Small Death
by Susanna Lang

A bat drags its broken wing along the pavement
flutter-kick flutter-kick
and I can do nothing.

Its fur is a glossier brown than I’d imagined.
It doesn’t belong in the daylight
but I can do nothing.

Young women with their dogs on leashes chatter in unintelligible languages.
Elsewhere, people are dying the sudden deaths of war
or the slow diminishment of famine

but this small death is taking place at our feet
while clover and columbine bloom sanguine at the edge of the path.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 2.

Susanna LangSusanna Lang’snew collection of poems, Travel Notes from the River Styx, was released in summer 2017 from Terrapin Books. Her last collection was Tracing the Lines (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2013).  A two-time Hambidge fellow, her poems have appeared in such journals as Little Star, Prairie Schooner, december, Prime Number Magazine and Verse Daily, as well as an earlier issue of Cider Press Review.  Her translations of poetry by Yves Bonnefoy include Words in Stone and The Origin of Language. Among her current projects is Self-Portraits, a chapbook collection of ekphrastic poems focused on women across the arts. She lives in Chicago, and teaches in the Chicago Public Schools.

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Walking Through Witchgrass
by Judy Kaber

Tickling my calves as I step along
the side of the road, purple-tinged

panicle with a point like a witch’s broom,
not quite ready to let go, this bunch-grass

will spread its seeds wide from this
plumy fringe. Last year’s chaff

already fallen in some faraway field. Gone
the morning dew so slick along tufted shaft,

my feet crackle in dry grass. My mother’s
words come in letters; my father’s not at

all, hidden in thicker dirt than this panic
grass, buried below some darker surface.

Caterpillars of several skippers feed
on this foliage, mouths churning. I taste

the dusty air, remember my father’s arm
lifting, the horseshoe swooping high, clanking

down in a puff around the metal stake while I
skulked in a corner of the yard, a cup

of warm Kool-Aid in hand. The road I left on
tarry-hot and long, so long I can’t name

it’s turnings, any more than my father can name
the grasses, growing rampant beside this road.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 2.

Judy KaberJudy Kaber’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Eclectica, Crab Creek Review, Off the Coast, and The Comstock Review. Contest credits include the Maine Postmark Poetry Contest, the Larry Kramer Memorial Chapbook Contest, and, most recently, second place in the 2016 Muriel Craft Bailey Poetry Contest. She lives in Maine.

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