A Review of NO MORE TIME by Greg Delanty

A Review of NO MORE TIME by Greg Delanty

Have you heard of the scurfpea, quagga, aye-aye, or the northern gastric frog? Greg Delanty’s new book of poems, No More Time, is filled with such exotic creatures, and more familiar ones, too. In some cases, they are thriving. Many others are either extinct or endangered, facts weighted with an awareness of humans’ role in their plight.

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Green Mountains Review, based at Northern Vermont University, is an annual, award-winning literary magazine publishing poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, literary essays, interviews, and book reviews by both well-known writers and promising newcomers.

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Four Poems

Four Poems

That absence filled with water, and we swam: / kept to the surface, above rusted beams / and weeds and car or body parts, above / sequins of glass, or rutted signs, or cans / crushed to bright coins, or hypodermics.

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You See Her Body

You See Her Body

I remember when you found your mother, said your uncle. / You close your eyes, / smell chlorine. See the backyard’s cedars, / bougainvillea shadow her swollen body.

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Myriad Selves

Myriad Selves

The enormous collage, Jheri Now, Curl Later, by L.A. artist Mark Bradford has been a part of the Brooklyn Museum’s permanent collection for over fifteen years. My love affair and subsequent fixation with Bradford’s work began in the year 2004, during an early iteration of the museum’s First Saturday program

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Five Poems

Five Poems

Waking from a troubled sleep, I turned / and asked my wife what time it was. / Who are you? she asked. Your husband, / I said. I eat grapefruit, repair the washer. / You’re not my husband, she said. Yes, / I am, I said. If you’re my husband, / then who prepares the coffee? I do, I said, / every morning. And the glass bottles:

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Two Poems

Two Poems

And there you were, elegant and engaging, though not / with the people around you, more with the air of the room, / an intimacy between you that I sensed as I watched

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Recasting the Sonnet: Review of Anna Maria Hong’s Age of Glass

Recasting the Sonnet: Review of Anna Maria Hong’s Age of Glass

The sonnet is inexhaustible. Magnetic, mesmerizing, bewitching, nearly every poet is drawn to the form at some point in their career, whether they long to write the perfect sonnet, the Shakespearean, Petrarchan or Spenserian, or they desire to break the form, queer it, manipulate it, celebrate its mutability; they want to discover what magic can happen within those fourteen lines.

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