The Orris: A Cultural Journal

Poetry: Valentina Cano

It happened when I wasn’t looking.

It came, dragging its chains

of scorching days,

each fused to gather your image.

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September 11, 2012

Poetry: Michael Brownstein

They could not bury them fast enough,

the rain thick and slippery, the mud a river,

and in the morning’s blue sky, a whip of cloud,

pink haze, great green vines hugging short trees to strangle

August 28, 2012

He’s a Vampire

Not long ago, a noted academic

Told me, in reference

To my misuse of the word “polemic”

In an abysmal book review sentence,,,

August 24, 2012

Black Jesus

An impulse as irresistible as in the acorn to germinate is in the soul of the prophet to speak. —Ralph Waldo Emerson. Bobby Barrow couldn’t seem to get the chicken and rice on his fork fast enough, as he shoveled it into his mouth much like he had been shoveling dirt

August 17, 2012 · 10 Comments

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