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
Apr 27 2106
National Poetry Monteh Celebration

The Louise Bogan Chapter of MSPS Presents Their Anthology* of Poems & Invites You to Read a Favorite Poem
Where: Lunenburg Public LibraryWhen: Wednesday April 27, 2016Time: 6:30 PMWho: The Louise Bogan Poets and YouWhy: A Celebration of National Poetry MonthExtra: Light Refreshments and Socializing Will Follow the Poetry.
*Made possible in part by the Lunenburg Cultural Council
CALL 978-582-4224 or e-mail meletarte @yahoo.com to sign up or for more information

6:30pm
1023 Massachusetts Avenue
01462 Lunenburg, Massachusetts

recent & featured listings

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Literary Magazine AGNI Massachusetts
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Writing Program Boston University Massachusetts
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Literary Organization Concord Poetry Center Massachusetts

poems

poem
There is a movie called "She's Gotta Have It."
There is a blizzard in Massachusetts today.
Twenty-one people died in Chicago last night.
Two of my friends live there,
but I have never wanted to live there
because it is cold there and people die
from the cold and the wind and from each other.
There is a movie
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
I've been meaning to tell
you how the sky is pink
here sometimes like the roof
of a mouth that's about to chomp
down on the crooked steel teeth
of the city,

I remember the desperate 
things we did
                and that I stumble
down sidewalks listening
to the buzz of street lamps
at dusk and the