- Mark Olival-Bartley
- Thanks to a residency at EcoHealth, my verse these days finds inspiration in the specter of future pandemics; for my dissertation at LMU München, where I tutor composition and edit a poetry weekly, I'm anatomizing the prosody of E. A. Robinson's sonnets—I also teach at MVHS and lead the Amerikahaus Literary Circle.
by Richard Lincke
Swift footed time, looke back and here mark well,
those rare-shapt parts my pen shall now declare;
my mistres snow-white skinne doth much excell
the pure-soft woll arcadyan sheep doe beare ;
Her hayre exceedes gold forc'd in smallest wire,
in smaller threds then those Arachne spun ;
her eyes are christall fountains, yet dart fire
more glorious to behold then Mid-day sun ;
Her Iuory front (though soft as purest silke)
lookes like the table of Olympick Iove,
her cheekes are like ripe cherries layd in milke,
her alabaster neck the throne of Loue ;
Her other parts so farre excell the rest,
That wanting words, they cannot be exprest.
Note: A recitation can be heard here.