I sit by the window and watch a great mythological bird go down in flames. In fact, it’s a kite the neighborhood troublemaker has set on fire. Twenty-one and still living at home, deciding when to cut through a screen and chop us into little pieces. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” his mother would say, as they packed our
Jan 13 2019
Poets George Witte and Josh Humphrey read from their work for The High Mountain Meadow Poetry Series, sponsored by the North Jersey Literary Community.
George Witte's three collections are Does She Have a Name?, Deniability, and The Apparitioners. His poems have been anthologized in The Best American Poetry, Old Flame, Rabbit Ears, and The Doll Collection; new poems are in journals including Antioch Review, The Hopkins Review, Nimrod, Poetry Northwest, and The Yale Review. A native of Madison, New Jersey, he lives in Ridgewood and works as an editor at St. Martin's Press.
Josh Humphrey's first collection is Afterlife, a chapbook that includes photography by his father, Bill Humphrey. His poems have been anthologized in Rabbit Ears, Meta-Land, and in the Rutherford Red Wheelbarrow, and appeared in journals including The Paterson Literary Review, Journal of New Jersey Poets, Sensations Magazine, Lullwater Review, and The New Plains Review. He is Director of the Kearny Public Library and lives in Kearny, NJ.
461 Valley Road07470 Wayne, New Jersey
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It's the fern beyond the wind, the classic Eruptions. Night is a funnel that is overcome. Violence of signs beyond the pale. Stasis Has its own way, the hard work, the violence. Convalesce, convalesce in the green green World, in which you could hardly walk, But that was before, before life set its rhythms In
Upon their arrival in America, more than twelve million immigrants were processed through the Ellis Island Immigration Center. Those who had traveled in second or third class were immediately given a thirty-second health inspection to determine if they were fit to enter their new country. A chalk