Eleanor Wilner
"Entering the Labyrinth," an essay on the persona poem.

Eleanor Wilner
Four persona poems: Minos, Ariadne, Daedalus, and The Minotaur.


This marks an author's first online publication Michelle Boisseau

This marks an author's first online publication Annie Boutelle
Christine Casson
This marks an author's first online publication Carolyn Creedon
Claudia Emerson
Daisy Fried
Diane Gilliam
Shadab Zeest Hashmi
Kathleen Jesme
Ilya Kaminsky
Marilyn Krysl
David Lee
Gary Copeland Lilley
Maurice Manning
Alicia Ostriker
Alicia Jo Rabins
Tim Seibles
This marks an author's first online publication Heidy Steidlmayer
Book Review
"Tourist in Hell" by Eleanor Wilner—Book Review, by David Rigsbee.

Tim Seibles

Tim Seibles is the current poet-in-residence at Bucknell University in Pennsylvania. He is the author of several books of poetry including Hurdy-Gurdy (1992), Hammerlock (1999), and Buffalo Head Solos (2008), all from Cleveland State University. He teaches full-time at Old Dominion University in Virginia.

Blade, Historical    

Years ago a pregnant woman was bitten by a vampire. Her son was born with the thirst but struggles to remain human. Though vampires secretly dominate the world, he wages a private war against them. Because of his weapon of choice, they call him Blade.

It is possible that God exists, but with everything
that has happened to us, could it possibly matter?

      —Mario Vargas Llosa

You come into the world—
from where    from where
and the world turns

toward you, fangs bared,
disguised as what it is, as if
this is how it has to be:

as if it were normal to walk
the daylight knowing
something's wrong. Grow up,

they say, get a job, go to church.
And after awhile you stop
fighting it and try to smile.

Don't you ever wonder
whose blood is in
the banks? It's yours.

Follow the money
back to the Plague and
the rise of the papacy:

The Inquisition. The Burning
Times. The explorers
and the explored. So many

centuries, so much
death: you can still taste it
on the wind. Some days

I think, with the singing
of my blade, I can fix
everything—even the sadness

that says nothing that matters
will change. Some days
I think I should never have been.



© 2010 The Cortland Review