home
from the editor's laptop
welcome readerpoemsessaysshort storiesportrait of an artistbibliographybooksarchivesindex to issuesabout us / submitcurrent issue

 

G
by Ivy Alvarez

glossarial:
       one day I was a native tongue
       the next I lost my songs
       another language
       word by word
       eroding over months years then gone

gloze:
       what people say might be true
       but usually they say it
       wanting something from you

glume:
       wood-smoke from bundled sticks
       fed to an open fire in a makeshift stove
       water turns to vapour rises to join the clouds
       and what is left in the pot we eat

gnar:
       cat fur rising
       eye glare warning
       before its teeth sink in

gnomon:
       I dislike watches
       their battery-powered accuracies
       binding me to time

gonodium:
       trees murmur to their mosses
       rocks to their laces of lichen

(from The Everyday English Dictionary)

© Ivy Alvarez

 

back to toptop | about the author



powered by
FreeFind

ANNE CARLY ABAD
The City is a Conch

Flesh for the Weary

JIM PASCUAL AGUSTIN

Birds will have Dominion When I Take Swallow Form

When You Finally Tell Me Where You are, Neither of Us will be the Same

IVY ALVAREZ
G

X

Penelope

Tumbling

Sijo

E. SAN JUAN, JR.
Harana sa Isang Kasama, Hinahamon ang Tadhana
poems | essays | stories | portrait of an artist | bibliography
from the editor's laptop | welcome reader | books | frontispiece
archives | index to issues | readers | about us
| current issue |