tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78427249714730693412011-11-19T12:27:31.805-08:00Untitled Country ReviewSome things in the world have not already happened.
Our job is keeping tabs on such thingsUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comBlogger1251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-82945409360557064532011-10-08T17:23:00.000-07:002011-10-15T14:50:57.603-07:00Front Door
Updated 10/14/11 -- Issue #6 is live!
Issue #6 live... Enjoy!
Updated 9/30/11
We are pleased to announce Issue #6, due out the first week of October, includes new poems by Judith Barrington, David Chorlton and Lex Runciman, among others, and reviews of Joseph Soldati's new chapbook On Account of Darkness and Ingrid Wendt's full-length book Evensong.
Updated 9/17/11
Our Best UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-67500964064770239872011-10-08T12:57:00.000-07:002011-10-14T21:09:39.087-07:00Issue 6: Contents
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UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-3282719081916903922011-10-05T18:28:00.000-07:002011-10-16T09:37:09.511-07:00Issue 6: Welcome
by Scot Siegel
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by Sarah Rehfeldt
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Scot Siegel
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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/* Style UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-37608147826899152952011-10-05T17:02:00.000-07:002011-10-14T20:09:06.815-07:00Issue 6: Book Review
Evensong by Ingrid Wendt
Reviewed by Brian Doose
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Scot Siegel
Inside-Out
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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by Frederick Siegel
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by Paula Lietz
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by Paula Lietz
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Thank you for visiting. Please come again.
Return to Issue 6
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-10385727839564392972011-10-04T14:49:00.000-07:002011-10-15T17:36:52.204-07:00Unsung Heroes
Untitled
Country Review does not endorse political candidates; nor do we
participate in product placement or marketing focus groups. We do not
sell or share our lists of subscribers. However, we do endorse certain
not-for-profit literary arts organizations because of the fine work they
do in the service of poetry, and we hope you will too:
Friends of William Stafford
Literary Arts
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-82800329116277715562011-04-10T07:12:00.000-07:002011-10-08T09:28:59.991-07:00UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-60424023928006778172011-04-09T21:23:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:57:10.811-07:00
Thank you for visiting. Please come again.
Return to Issue 5 Table of Contents
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-48520761227383387202011-04-09T20:08:00.000-07:002011-10-08T09:29:20.170-07:00UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-4623715397914356602011-04-09T17:26:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:24:20.911-07:00Issue 5: Review - Rose Hunter
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Bio
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Lyn Lifshin. 2010. ALL THE POETS (MOSTLY) WHO HAVE TOUCHED ME (LIVING AND DEAD.UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-65780821737232277582011-04-09T17:16:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:41:24.095-07:00Issue 5: Mark Thalman
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Wilson River: First Outing after UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-82777985387831810342011-04-09T17:15:00.000-07:002011-04-14T08:50:59.889-07:00Issue 5: Laura Carter
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Córdoba and the Names of Nowhere
The names of nowhere write in lost UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-3781972483578735802011-04-09T17:14:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:08:13.241-07:00Issue 5: Debra Shirley
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Found Word Poem No. 1
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-23805721712392142602011-04-09T17:13:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:36:00.458-07:00Issue 5: David Chorlton
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The Righteous
The UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-16884558090755580832011-04-09T17:11:00.000-07:002011-07-26T16:53:06.216-07:00Issue 5: Marc Swan
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Expectation
I open the black metal box and among
the flyers, bank UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-35315801171673730022011-04-09T17:08:00.000-07:002011-04-13T22:13:29.541-07:00Issue 5: Welcome
Welcome to the Spring-Summer Issue of Untitled Country Review. Starting with this issue we are on a semiannual publication schedule. That means twice per year. The intent is to feature more poems accompanied by art in each issue, and more visual art (photography, paintings, graphic design, etc.) in general.
Please see the updated Submission Guidelines.
Annual Report
Thank you for making UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-23757579459034381042011-04-09T17:06:00.000-07:002011-04-13T21:47:32.691-07:00Issue 5: Contents
Welcome
“Annual Report” – Scot Siegel, Editor
Poetry
“Expectation” -- Marc Swan
“The Righteous”-- David Chorlton
“Found Word Poem No. 1” and “Hauling Water”-- Debra Shirley
“Córdoba and the Names of Nowhere” and “The Palaver of Place”--Tim Barnes
“Poem”-- Laura Carter
“Wilson River: First Outing after Quadruple Bypass”-- Mark Thalman
Features
Lyn Lifshin – Featured Poet (1/New Poems, 2/UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-92013225267238206272011-02-17T20:39:00.000-08:002011-02-20T08:33:30.508-08:00Issue 4 - ContributorsContributors to Issue 4, in the order in which they appear:
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Welcome
“Winter” – Scot Siegel, Editor
Poetry
“A Slight, Often Barely Perceptible Augmentation” -- Margaret Walther
“January 31st” and “Day of Desert Winter”UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-86711084479193857492011-02-17T20:09:00.000-08:002011-02-19T21:52:48.521-08:00Issue 4 - Welcome
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Winter
One must have a mind of winter…For the listener, who listens in the UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-41664538308671253692011-02-17T19:48:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:26:58.329-08:00Issue 4 - Margaret Walther
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A Slight, Often Barely Perceptible Augmentation
cold comes in incrementsbass UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-87405521052742258202011-02-17T19:46:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:28:11.788-08:00Issue 4 - David Chorlton
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January 31st
A sudden shower blew UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-80122170534062674572011-02-17T19:45:00.000-08:002011-09-17T14:04:27.748-07:00Issue 4 - Vivian Faith Prescott
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Winter Comes to Stay
The leaves flashed
yellow caution, red stop,
but UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-43698295430553276072011-02-17T19:43:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:31:23.089-08:00Issue 4 - William Stratton
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My Father's Garden
You saw tomato plantsUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-70654082264171434792011-02-17T19:42:00.000-08:002011-02-20T08:17:23.967-08:00Issue 4 - Bette Lynch Husted
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Ways of Looking at the Universe
We wake to darkness.Snow, a pall of freezing UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-3868322934193914102011-02-17T19:40:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:33:43.552-08:00Issue 4 - Lyn Lifshin
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Blue Sleighs
December, thewater movesdark between thesnow dunes in tenthousandUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-30270398819096513132011-02-17T19:39:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:34:41.426-08:00Issue 4 - Caroline Misner
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Landscape
I can still feel the warmthin the crater your body made.There is a UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-77013015680966279892011-02-17T19:37:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:35:55.018-08:00Issue 4 - David Filer
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Early Bloom
Signs of springstir city dwellerstired of cold weatherwith unfoundedUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-86819086448986542882011-02-17T19:17:00.000-08:002011-02-20T17:04:20.322-08:00Issue 4 - Featured Poet: Ann TweedyUntitled Country Review is pleased to present our featured poet for Winter 2011, Ann Tweedy. Lena Drake's review of Tweedy's debut book Beleaguered Oases, a poem from the book, and an interview with Tweedy conducted by Untitled Country editor Scot Siegel follow.
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John Vick. UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-66372871422896080162011-02-17T19:04:00.000-08:002011-02-19T20:55:37.913-08:00
Thank you for visiting. Please come again.
Return to Issue 4 Table of Contents
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-65666808850847047022010-11-12T18:14:00.000-08:002011-10-08T09:29:41.550-07:00UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-64822222439266922002010-11-11T13:53:00.000-08:002011-10-08T09:29:59.818-07:00UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-12038953443533826382010-11-07T14:43:00.000-08:002010-11-13T10:26:34.444-08:00Issue 3: Welcome
Ah, Autumn…
After forty-seven days of no rain, “the backyard is singing, because/ it is raining.” Two-day rain “makes eyelashes and shoulders, elbows, hamstrings, nipples, toes and tongues…” Rain kisses “Kayakers barrel[ing] through rapids” and ushers salmon up falls to spawn and die and become rain again. Rain is present in “the dark steam of each day lifting/ from the flat table of tar.” UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-69850023983122970282010-11-07T14:29:00.000-08:002010-11-13T09:08:50.232-08:00Issue 3: Contents
Welcome
Ah, Autumn…
Poetry
“Aviary” -- Brittney Corrigan
“Riding the rapids” -- Melissa Madenski
“Girl on a Bus” -- Lauren Camp
“what rain hears” --Laura Winter
“Two Day Rain” -- Lex Runciman
“Local Shaman” -- Scott T. Starbuck
“Elevenmile” -- Ray Succre“The Georgia Slither” -- Ray Succre
“Getting to Work” -- Lucia Galloway“Hosting the Duke at the Cotton Club, circa 1929” -- Lucia Galloway
“UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-13516737174935180342010-11-07T14:27:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:08:19.372-08:00Issue 3: Brittney Corrigan
Aviary
It is like when I used to visit zoos, pressing the large doors open and stepping into the aviary — humid creation of rain, dripping like distant static, and all the hidden voices calling at once. Trees tucked under ceilings and into green tile walls, me scanning for colors and wings. Small sandpipers racing to locate a tide, black-eyed birds making the crossing from one side of theUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-87960833775440239862010-11-07T14:24:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:01:26.913-08:00Issue 3: Melissa Madenski
Riding the rapids
When you were small I lifted you, still sleeping, into the car where you curled – an animal hoarding warmth.
Driving a pre-dawnIdaho straight stretchthe rearview mirror capturesyour arm, outside the quiltas if you'd just released a ball.
It lolls, rolls while we climbup and up over the mountainuntil, far above the Payette Riveryou wake. It is light.
We step outside. UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-66282639274346168402010-11-07T14:21:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:06:23.922-08:00Issue 3: Lauren Camp
Girl on a Bus
While her folks covered the full distance of an argument, she entered the station at 2nd
and Main; at the counter, she scheduled the nervous destination of Hope
because she believedit might exist. The girl was raised sharp,
spent after-school hours on a rickety bicycleand climbed fences to tangle with freedom.
She never ratted on the bargain business conducted in alleys, never UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-9765037594281103282010-11-07T14:20:00.000-08:002010-11-12T18:53:03.526-08:00Issue 3: Laura Winter
what rain hears
throughhalf a windowclusteredgreen of
beadedcurtain bambooplum
early blossomsdrip
to the heartbeatstones
thereflexing its wingsa song
--Laura Winter
Previous Table of Contents NextUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-67492313576436281832010-11-07T14:19:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:20:51.523-08:00Issue 3: Lex Runciman
Two Day Rain
This our river began as black night, dust, gravity, cold, and distance:
it began as time unconscious of itselfand atoms clustered for company –
beyond telling how much later, it beganin immeasurable heat, and by a mechanism
or serendipity it can no more explainthan recreate, elements became water,
and earth a place rounded under blue.Thus from this our sky water makes fear,
UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-22472492803599232692010-11-07T14:18:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:24:42.874-08:00Issue 3: Scott Starbuck
Local Shaman
I tell the diesel mechanic, Bill,The Starfisher’s engine is cutting outdue to a hole in a line,a torn flange in the pump,or a shot of bad fuel.
His instructive silence saysmy labyrinth mindmust fall through a trap doorto a fishing memoryon the Siletz River
where Coyote,in his butterfly-colored beads,laughs like Chaplindirecting Limelightor a man in a rowboatbefore there were UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-10741564191291192802010-11-07T14:17:00.001-08:002010-11-12T17:27:03.737-08:00Issue 3: Ray Succre
Elevenmile
Birds above, in salmon poolare as foreign agents; better odds catching this fowlthan Elevenmile brook trout.
How my father miscalculated fish.Pole and reel all day, a tree on the bank.Birds sick of soil raise. Fish fed up with air dive.They'd leave us in the middle, cold, tired.
Our mountain excursion through empty space,swilling the air until I dangled from the world's roof,UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-79541005687226538182010-11-07T14:17:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:34:34.332-08:00Issue 3: Ray Succre
The Georgia Slither
The young Californian boy learned his Georgian welcomein a creek near the trailer rows,and his west coast father wanted Georgian fish,so the slow off-road Lindsay creek was settled their day.
The father sat on the bank, playing linewhile his son waded out, disturbing the fish.“It's hot here,” the boy muttered.“Muggy,” the father added.“When are we moving back to California?UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-29968292129707674632010-11-07T14:16:00.000-08:002010-11-13T09:11:58.326-08:00Issue 3: Lucia Galloway
Getting to Work
The captain mans a joystick, flies a drone.Through windswept desert, on H 85he drives an SUV to work 10 miles from home.
In his office-cockpit, he takes the Naugahyde throne.He studies monitors that show the villagers alive.The captain mans a joystick, flies a drone.
Vegas glitter and Nevada’s barren stonerecede, along with barbeque and soccer, from the lives of men who UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-34243278507987576992010-11-07T14:14:00.001-08:002010-11-12T17:44:18.688-08:00Issue 3: Terry Brix
Guilty of You Being More Than I Can Handle
You’re an octopus, eight arms & a myriad of lovely suction cups,hang adeptly from any ceilings, infinitely mobile,gymnast agile, lotus position, Kama Sutra, even rollerblading,You squeeze your body into bottles, crannies & odd hollowswhen trouble or moods attack, hide in the clouds of your own ink.
I am clam sometimes less mobile yet, like an UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-41929743413740511822010-11-07T14:14:00.000-08:002010-11-12T17:49:44.012-08:00Issue 3: Lucia Galloway
Hosting the Duke at the Cotton Club, circa 1929
Never seen the club so jammed.Not a dime-size spot out thereon the dance floor. What a mob!A real Hades in Harlem!What’s that? Ah yes, little gal at the ring-side table wants us to play “Going to Town.”
You there in the catbird seat! Your dress hikes up a tad; youcross one leg over the knee,unfold it in the humid dusk of the sidelines to UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-33818334127204131752010-11-07T14:12:00.000-08:002011-01-16T07:52:55.779-08:00Issue 3: Catherine McGuire
Afterimage a terzanelle
From the streams where they spawned;from wide rivers where they sayyou could walk across on them – gone
like ink fading on a page;photos, graying, know the taleFrom wide rivers, gone, they say.
Yaquina, Rogue, Deschutes, Nehal-em: liquid silver journeys fade.Photos, graying, show the tale
but, mute, salmon can not persuadeus to act decisively beforethose UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-69554116042913698102010-11-07T14:08:00.000-08:002010-11-12T18:00:00.678-08:00Issue 3: Catherine McGuire
Gorge Amphitheater; George, Washington, Sept. 2009
Unobtanium
If you bang something togetherfast enough, something new happens.That’s what they say, and despitethe breakdowns, the leaks that poisonsome chance areas, we aregoing faster all the time. Ad astra! Like startled birdsbanging against clear panes,we don’t see glass walls or ceilings –we dart and veer, hurling throughnarrow lives atUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-13840288424285141122010-11-07T14:06:00.000-08:002010-11-12T21:02:43.515-08:00Issue 3: Contributors
"Return to the Source" by featured artist Scott Starbuck
Terry Brix, a “green” chemical engineer, divides his time among Blue River, Oregon; Bozeman, Montana; Scandinavia; and South Africa. Inspired by his travels, a collection of his poetry Chiseled from the Heart was published in 2000 by Vigeland Museum, Norway. His poetry has appeared in many publications, including The Evansville Review, UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-41343402382957296762010-11-07T14:05:00.000-08:002010-11-12T15:33:31.611-08:00
Thank you for visiting. Click to return to Table of ContentsUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-77148666604927159612010-05-05T12:54:00.000-07:002011-10-08T09:30:17.877-07:00UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-80075208864967526962010-05-05T12:50:00.000-07:002010-05-06T07:27:23.852-07:00Issue 1: Contents
Welcome
Welcome, No Boarding Pass Required -- Scot Siegel, Editor
Poetry
"In the Spaciousness of 3 AM" -- Barbara LaMorticella
"One Theory of Poetry" -- Pam Uschuk
"St. Martin in the Fields" -- Maxima Kahn
"Leaving" -- George Bishop
"The Children" -- Judith Terzi
"Chinese Mother to Her Son" -- Lucia Galloway
"My First Job" -- Karen Braucher
"Dog Is God Spelled Backwards" -- Howie Good
"Down UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-42785188063058758812010-05-05T12:48:00.000-07:002010-05-05T17:11:45.152-07:00
Welcome, no boarding pass required
the greatest ownership of all is to look around and understand. – William Stafford
Welcome to the inaugural issue of Untitled Country Review. The response to our first call for submissions was outstanding. We received over two hundred poems from the United States, Canada and the UKUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-71488431674867561442010-05-05T12:33:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:09:16.185-07:00Issue 1: Barbara LaMorticella
In the Spaciousness of 3 AM
Some people’s poetry only comes whenthey’re sleeping. Poems trapped hereare an underground network, cloudy onyx,coal unburned yet, roots that rise up inoffice buildings and in rain.
At 3 AM things become more themselvesby leaving themselves:
The chair and the river fall happilyinto each other, because the chairhas always wanted to be a river,while the river, for its UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-80147595058373018442010-05-05T12:28:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:09:43.116-07:00Issue 1: Pam Uschuk
One Theory of Poetry
for Bill
It’s the solace of lazuli buntingsand chipping sparrows I hear while nuthatches laugh, scaling the pinein full view of the overweight cat who bats at remnant moths bumping glass.This is the hour before owls take the trees,hour of snake retreat, of the tarantula’sreturn to the gravel yard, panic hour when trees are not what they UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-90837179685398823582010-05-05T12:27:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:10:01.213-07:00Issue 1: Maxima Kahn
St. Martin in the Fields
this morning my body wrapped like a cordlike something caving in on itselfthe little stone in my chest knocking in its cavity
and though the sun strikes white-goldon the evergreens and a man on the radiomentions the Academy of St. Martinin the Fields, and i think how nice it must be
to stand in the fields, how all our academiesought to be in the fields, where we might UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-60803158034649473832010-05-05T12:26:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:10:14.239-07:00Issue 1: George Bishop
Leaving
She didn’t say anythingthat hadn’t been said before.However, this time more roadshad been closed and the animalin me began to look up, take notice,through not so innocent eyes.
We’d both seen it comingthough from different directions.In the end it didn’t matter,all the answers had long sincepulled over and begun the endlesswalk home.
She asked if I wanted anythingand I said nothing UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-21274388553724344172010-05-05T12:22:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:10:26.026-07:00Issue 1: Judith Terzi
The Children -after "Iraq's Grown-Up Children," Los Angeles Times, October 2008
Zaid quit grade four to work the slumsof Sadr City from dawn to dusk.His father's old and bent, so he's the son
who rides their tractor collecting trash,not working land they'd planned to tillbefore the war. From dawn to dusk,
his friend Majid, with the familyUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-16574111558079005232010-05-05T12:19:00.002-07:002010-05-09T20:10:36.956-07:00Issue 1: Lucia Galloway
Chinese Mother to Her Son
There is a farmer who uses his tractor as a village shuttle in order to earn enough money to buy meat. --Los Angeles Times, February 19, 2000
I’ll sing you a song, Little One, while I shake out the comfortersand fold them at the foot of our cots. You dig with your stick on the floor near the UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-28495744390910344592010-05-05T12:19:00.001-07:002010-05-09T20:10:50.764-07:00Issue 1: Karen Braucher
My First Job
Over steaming pots, the cooks were ornery,flushed. In uniforms and hairnets, we constantlyscuttled—placing orders, delivering food. The boss
with pursed lips often screamed. Those first weeks,at night I’d collapse on my schoolgirl bed, my arms, legs,back ached. A few times I cried. Early on, I had trouble
remembering, brought the wrong dish, apologized.A customer snapped, “This UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-89902135850016861992010-05-05T12:19:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:11:01.324-07:00Issue 1: Howie Good
Dog Is God Spelled Backwards
Waiting for the dog to finish,I think of dead friends,their unsent e-mails, their caved-in hearts
The shadows under the treesare bearded Hasids in long black coatsswaying during evening prayers.
I go back inside. The news is on.It’s all tumors and acronyms.
She’s studying the calendar magneton the fridge. What about April,she says, if March is no good?
--Howie UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-47780427498993516552010-05-05T12:17:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:11:11.558-07:00Issue 1: Chase McCartney
Down In My Heart
My pumping heart worries about what's to comeMy gut urges me onward not expecting anyquestions about why I must
My mind, deciphering the body's requests, tells me think for yourself... Loud-mouthed organs screamin opposition…
Raw feet carry me on a jagged path,rushing me heavenward; Gods on gilded throneswatch this violent dance, take note of what's to come…
I might be bitter UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-50839489569233727132010-05-05T12:16:00.001-07:002010-05-09T20:11:21.562-07:00Issue 1: Paulann Petersen
Since Most Stars Are Strangers
Let a white hoop be the horizon.Let fir trees wimple and gleam.Let wind set up a tremor it never abandons.
Seven left eyes of seven crowswheel in a hubbub of dark jabber.Wings overtake the day.
Let an elk take the sun away on its antlers. But only for a while.Let the coat of a fox reddenUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-81184989811727082752010-05-05T12:16:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:11:32.994-07:00Issue 1: Patricia Smith Ranzoni
Holding and Being Held
By Your Long Journey Robe From Siletz Back to the Other Side
Waking from our cross-continental migration,with your Pendleton “Spirit of the Salmon” blanket washing over us, as we imagine alevin, I feel its deep and sky blues gulping its bled red sundown waves floating us together. The way you said the Yachats meets the Pacific. Fresh joining salt. Place ofUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-9864817121860379132010-05-05T12:15:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:11:44.372-07:00Issue 1: S.P. Flannery
Brine Children
Flayed skins they seedry on well-smoothed rocksunattended by the spear throwerswho dive back into the frenzy.
This band of rapscallion kidssnatches the hides still wetand steals them away to a field,their own private cove.
In the distance deep-bellowed hollering echoes from bull and cow seals who watch hunters scream and cry over their loss.
--S.P. Flannery
Table of UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-31193888169514247032010-05-05T12:14:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:11:59.677-07:00Issue 1: Don Colburn
Bridge of the Gods
Cascade Locks, Oregon
Centuries they dreamed of walking across.Then one side of Table Mountain calvedand slid into the gorge, rubble enoughto hold the river back, an inland sea.Wind and rain scraped at the rockpile dam,but the Great Spirit kept it wholefor his people to carry dreams across.Snow-all-year mountains stood watchuntil a quarrelUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-91944009240637148592010-05-05T12:10:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:12:10.217-07:00Issue 1: Tiel Aisha Ansari
Beach House
A beach house should be built from driftwood, cedar logs rust-red at the heart and bleached to silver outside.
A beach house should be floored with water-smoothed cobbles bedded in mortar one step up from hardened sand.
A beach house should be thatched with dried dune grass,windowed with brown and green glass worn to milky opacity.
The beds should be hammocks woven of kelp UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-79267981443550746372010-05-05T12:09:00.000-07:002010-08-18T23:14:45.210-07:00Issue 1: Book Review and Interview
NOTES from the COMMITTEE by Catherine KasperReviewed by Scot Siegel
NOTES from the COMMITTEENoemi Press, 2009Perfect Binding, 37 pagesISBN 978-1-934819-12-8
Link to Noemi Press
I first came across Catherine Kasper’s writing in Caketrain. It was by happenstance that I found it while flipping through a copy of Volume 6 at Powell's Books in Portland. Somehow my thumb stuck on a piece called “The UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-83273634529926668312010-05-05T12:01:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:13:09.273-07:00Issue 1: Contributors
Tiel Aisha Ansari is a Sufi, martial artist, and data analyst living in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has appeared in Islamica, The Lyric and VoiceCatcher, and has been featured on KBOO, Prairie Home Companion and MiPoRadio. Tiel Aisha Ansari has also been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her collection is Knocking from Inside.
George Bishop was raised on the Jersey Shore and UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-37857075778291068642010-05-05T11:59:00.000-07:002010-05-09T20:13:49.172-07:00
Thank you for visiting. Click to return to Table of ContentsUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-37853634282142512902010-04-29T19:42:00.000-07:002010-04-29T21:11:26.989-07:00UCR ArchivesUCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-91976539499870088832010-01-29T19:43:00.000-08:002011-04-14T18:05:24.429-07:00Scot Siegel
Scot Siegel edits Untitled Country Review. He lives in Oregon with his wife and two daughters. Siegel is the author of three books of poetry: Some Weather (Plain View Press), Untitled Country (Pudding House Publications), and Skeleton Says (Finishing Line Press). His second full-length poetry collection is due out from Salmon Poetry in early 2012. Siegel is a member of the Squaw Valley UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-14481309853082091122010-01-04T07:03:00.000-08:002010-08-08T08:28:21.742-07:00CopyrightCopyright (c) 2010-present, Untitled Country Review, ISSN 2152-7903. All rights reserved. Untitled Country Review acquires First Electronic Rights upon acceptance of poems/artwork. Upon publication (when issue is uploaded to web or other electronic media), copyright reverts to author/artist. Untitled Country Review reserves the right to archive the poem/artwork indefinitely online and on other UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7842724971473069341.post-43592293778472686852009-12-31T23:17:00.001-08:002011-10-14T20:56:04.364-07:00About UCR & Submissions
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J. P. Dancing Bear is the author nine collections of poetry, most recently, Inner Cities of Gulls (2010), and Conflicted Light (2008) both published by Salmon Poetry. His poems have been published in hundreds of publications. He is editor for the American Poetry Journal and Dream Horse Press.
Shaindel Beers’ poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction have appeared in UCRhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02352864767470381427noreply@blogger.com0