- Mark Olival-Bartley
- Mark Olival-Bartley studied applied linguistics at Hawaii Pacific University, attaining B.A. and M.A. degrees in TESOL, and poetry at the City College of New York. He is now anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson’s sonnets for his dissertation at Amerika Institut of LMU Munich, where also he edits a poetry weekly. His poems and translations have appeared in journals on both sides of the Atlantic. He is the resident poet at EcoHealth, where his science-themed verse is regularly featured, and a senior copyeditor of Review of International American Studies.
by Carrie Etter
I stumble over the stone angel´s song,
ply her ever-open mouth with tempered
heresy and blushing wit. I lack wings,
have a knack for ascent, how to hover.
I relish belief in an unheard song
and try to refuse to bargain, tempered
by doubt. The lake blues in the wake of wings.
I almost see. This is how I hover,
poised at the bank in a vestige of song.
I listen to the absence. Doubt´s tempered
when faith enjoys its fetters. No, not wings.
A pair of feet--mine--stand where I hover.
Note: A recitation can be heard here.