January, 2002 (deadline December 1, 2001):
I, for one (and others probably)
didn't even know that I was there,
having gone to the Cedar Street
at different times of day
for talks with charlatan poets and editors,
late breakfasts with a crazy and bizarre Australian pornographer,
beers with fellow NYU mediævalists;
and we were all unaware
of action-painting, spilling and swirling around.
- John Burnett Payne, "Sometimes a Name"
February, 2002 (deadline January 1, 2002):
and somewhere a little shop
that disappears is caught in the act;
somewhere rain beats
inside the window of a locksmith;
somewhere roads are carved out
of the snow between restaurant tables.
I love you, Greenwich Village,
for the scenes you have set in secret.
- Barbara A. Holland, "The Dark of Greenwich Village"
March, 2002 (deadline February 1, 2002):
The tiny sickle shaped sliver of the new moon
Barely skims over the clock tower of the Jefferson Market Library,
Dim and pale, it hangs in the twilight sky.
- Mimi Pebler, "Moon Over the Village"
April, 2002 (deadline March 1, 2002):
Sleepy Villagers, eversoslightly unravelled,
Straggle out, variously arrayed in fur coats,
Tennis shorts, moo-moos and running shoes,
- James Henry Brennan, "The Greening of Gansevoort Street"
May, 2002 (deadline April 1, 2002)
He haunts the shadowy night spots
of Greenwich Village. He is from Morocco. Less than five feet
tall, he carries a hump on his back that thrusts his head slightly
forward. And what a head! The head of a sixteenth century Hidalgo,
large, imposing; one visualized the white ruff, the plumed hat.
- Margot de Silva, "Gil Amador"
June, 2002 (deadline May 1, 2002)
Oh the sun beat down and the world turned green
And the lights blew up the evening air
And I found myself on MacDougal Street
And I was so pure and debonair
- Richard Davidson, "Moon Over MacDougal Street"
July, 2002 (deadline June 1, 2002):
A tall, slender, old man straight as a young tree, he passes
by every day with his basket of flowers. At intervals he'll stop,
look up at the windows on either side of the street and whistle
a snatch of an aria from an Italian opera.
- Margot de Silva, "Afternoon On MacDougal Street"
September, 2002 (deadline August 1, 2002):
Will my poem be red to thee?
- Carlo Pittore, "Valentine to Greenwich Village"
October, 2002 (deadline September 1, 2002):
a blue-dark hand reaches up
to the azaleas cascading the window ledge
history house on Commerce Street
once Cherry Lane
- Emilie Glen, "Just One"
November, 2002 (deadline October 1, 2002):
I love your winding streets
not yet devoured by skyscrapers
or grid-lock traffic.
- Emma Landau, "Greenwich Village"
December, 2002 (deadline November 1, 2002)
And we all know Wedding Rings, Inc., with rings like
the rings you see when you close your eyes tight,
and that other jewelry place with necklaces
hanging in the window like seaweed.
- Marion Cohen, "Remembrance of Things Past"
We encourage poetry based on your response to the themes, bearing in mind Greenwich Village is a state of mind.
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