Massachusetts

In March 2015, Patrick Donnelly was named the seventh poet laureate of Northampton, Massachusetts. Donnelly, who is a poet, translator, editor, and teacher, is also director of The Frost Place’s Poetry Seminar. He is the author of Nocturnes of the Brothel of Ruin (Four Way Books, 2012) and The Charge (Ausable Press, 2003). He will serve a two-year term.

In March 2015, Jan Schreiber was named the second poet laureate of Brookline, Massachusetts, taking over for Judith Steinbergh. He will serve a two-year term.

 

upcoming events

date
Sep 27 2015
2015 WCPA Annual Poetry Contest: the Frank O'Hara Prize Winner's Reading

Join contest chair Robert Steele and contest judge Dawn Potter for the Winner's Reading of the 2015 WCPA Annual Poetry Contest: the Frank O'Hara Prize.  Contest winners and honorable mentions will read their work followed by a reading by contest judge Dawn Potter.2015 honorees include Jennifer Freed, John Eisner, Anne Marie Lucci and Emily Ferrara.The event will be held on Sunday, September 27th at the First Unitarian Church, 90 Main Street, Worcester, MA and will start at 2:00pm.Sponored by the Worcester County Poetry Association (worcestercountypoetry.org).

2:00pm
90 Main Street
01608 Worcester, Massachusetts

recent & featured listings

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Literary Organization The Frost Foundation Massachusetts
Literary Organization PEN New England Massachusetts
Literary Organization Worcester County Poetry Association Massachusetts
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Poetry-Friendly Bookstore Harvard Bookstore Massachusetts
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poems

poem
The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript	
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.	
 
When evening quickens faintly in the street,	
Wakening the appetites of life in some	
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning	
Wearily, as one
poem
In Worcester, Massachusetts,
I went with Aunt Consuelo
to keep her dentist's appointment
and sat and waited for her
in the dentist's waiting room.
It was winter. It got dark
early. The waiting room
was full of grown-up people,
arctics and overcoats,
lamps and magazines.
My aunt was inside
what seemed like a long
poem

"Relinquunt Omnia Servare Rem Publicam."

The old South Boston Aquarium stands
in a Sahara of snow now.  Its broken windows are boarded.
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
The airy tanks are dry.

Once my nose crawled like a snail on the glass;
my hand tingled
to burst the bubbles