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<channel>
	<title>Getting Something Read</title>
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	<link>http://shortpoem.org</link>
	<description>Short Works for the Peripatetic Web Surfer</description>
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		<title>Child&#8217;s Play</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/childs-play/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/childs-play/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Feb 2010 03:24:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Neal Whitman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Prof.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Neal Whitman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1256</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Neal Whitman, Poetry Prof
Last month, this feature got a comment from Charles Ghigna, known as Father Goose. Since then I learned how to pronounce his name: with a hard G, Geen-ya. I also visited the two blogs he posted. On charlesghigna.blogspot.com I found a new poem each week for teachers, librarians, parents, and kids. [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/childs-play/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Global Economy</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/global-economy/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/global-economy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Feb 2010 03:14:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Sally George]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/2008/09/global-economy/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Sally George
One day, for no particular reason, Deborah noticed that she didn&#8217;t really like her clothes. Not the ones she was wearing, or the ones she could think of in her closet. She tried to remember how they had looked when she bought them, what she had liked about them. Had they all been [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/global-economy/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>In the Temple of Whispers</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/in-the-temple-of-whispers/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/in-the-temple-of-whispers/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 02 Feb 2010 03:14:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joseph Milosch</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Joseph D. Milosch]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/in-the-temple-of-whispers/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Joseph Milosch
The pine window frames shrunk in the cold.
Snow, the poor man&#8217;s insulation, drifted
between the storm and our permanent windows.
Dad left the house at 6:30 am.
He&#8217;d return fifteen hours later
with frozen pastures smooth
in his face lines, a bull&#8217;s
butt to the wind in his right eye.
Fifteen hours of coffee, cigarettes,
two lane roads, paved or dirt [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/in-the-temple-of-whispers/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Signs of a Middle Age</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/signs-of-a-middle-age/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/signs-of-a-middle-age/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 25 Jan 2010 20:24:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Persis M. Karim</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Persis M. Karim]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=572</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Persis M. Karim
It isn&#8217;t the dark circles
that underscore the eyes
or lines that break out
in latticework at temples
not the deep
grooves that signal
the constancy of smile
or frown
resting on the face,
or heaviness
of chin
bearing the weight
of difficult decades
but the pinch of skin
just below the ears,
like the apricot
whose golden, taut skin
settles into softness
after too much ripening.
Listen to: Signs of [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/signs-of-a-middle-age/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
<enclosure url="http://shortpoem.org/wp-content/2008/09/Signs-of-Middle-Age.mp3" length="63325" type="audio/mpeg" />
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>American Life in Poetry</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/american-life-in-poetry-12/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/american-life-in-poetry-12/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 25 Jan 2010 20:24:09 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[American Life in Poetry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1258</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
Animals are incapable of reason, or so we&#8217;ve been told, but we imaginative humans keep talking to our dogs and cats as if they could do algebra. In this poem, Ann Struthers looks into the mystery of instinctive behavior.
Not Knowing Why
Adolescent white pelicans squawk, rustle, flap their wings,
lift off [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/american-life-in-poetry-12/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Distance</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/distance/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/distance/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 19 Jan 2010 10:00:25 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Ag Synclair]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1248</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Ag Synclair
red river desert
accipitridae seek food
the spoils of war
accipitridae
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/distance/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>I&#8217;ve Been to the Mountaintop</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/ive-been-to-the-mountaintop/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/ive-been-to-the-mountaintop/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 18 Jan 2010 09:00:36 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Other]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1250</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Excerpts from Martin Luther King Jr.&#8217;s speech, April 3, 1968, in Memphis, Tennessee. The full text of this speech can be read here.
&#8230;  something is happening in our world. And you know, if I were standing at the beginning of time, with the possibility of taking a kind of general and panoramic view of the [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/ive-been-to-the-mountaintop/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Ancestral</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/ancestral/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/ancestral/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 17 Jan 2010 04:28:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Margarita Engle]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/2008/04/ancestral/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Margarita Engle
Descending
into the land
of childhood
a yellow-walled town
on the coast
of light
memory&#8217;s
turbulent landing
each rediscovery
of time flow
and place love
always new.
Originally posted 2008-04-27 10:41:05. ]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/ancestral/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Snow-Birds Settling</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/snowbirds-settling/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/snowbirds-settling/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 17 Jan 2010 04:28:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dretta Grace White]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1255</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Dretta Grace White
Snow-Birds settling
Made all the difference
She thought of their
Settling
And of the light  they gave
And became in her way
As grey
As they
snow-bird
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/snowbirds-settling/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Panopticism</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/panopticism-2/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/panopticism-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 22:42:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[James Eric Watkins]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1246</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by James Eric Watkins
embracing wind
encircles the universe
swirls the planet
consumes my senses
panoptically caresses the tall grasses
that sway
all around me
and night lies quietly against my skin
&#8220;panopticism&#8221; was published in Shemomin April of 2008
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/panopticism-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>NY Times Op. Ed. &#8211; The Underlying Tragedy</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/ny-times-op-ed-the-underlying-tragedy/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/ny-times-op-ed-the-underlying-tragedy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 22:22:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Other]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1253</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The Underlying Tragedy
By David Brooks
Published: January 15, 2010
&#8220;The devastation from the earthquake in Haiti should be used as an occasion to rethink our approach to global poverty.&#8221;
Excerpt from the NYT: This week, a major earthquake &#8230; measuring a magnitude of 7.0, struck near Port-au-Prince, Haiti. The Red Cross estimates that between 45,000 and 50,000 people [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/ny-times-op-ed-the-underlying-tragedy/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Help for Haiti</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/help-for-haiti/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/help-for-haiti/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 16 Jan 2010 03:54:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Other]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1252</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[(Via TidBITS.)
Tech-Based Help for Haiti, by Doug McLean
It&#8217;s difficult to wrap one&#8217;s mind around the horrific damage caused by Haiti&#8217;s recent earthquake, &#8230;
AT&#038;T &#8212; AT&#038;T cell phone users &#8211; including nearly all U.S. iPhone users &#8211; can make $10 donations to the Red Cross International Relief Fund simply by sending a text message. To donate&#8230;. [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/help-for-haiti/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Dead of Winter</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/dead-of-winter/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/dead-of-winter/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 15 Jan 2010 12:00:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[James Eric Watkins]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1242</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by James Eric Watkins
ice coats
the branches
all around
the cold wind
is the only sound
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/dead-of-winter/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Myth of Sisyphus (Tanka Prose)</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/the-myth-of-sisyphus-tanka-prose/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/the-myth-of-sisyphus-tanka-prose/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 15 Jan 2010 02:48:34 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Chen-ou Liu]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1243</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Chen-ou  Liu
people awake
work, eat, and sleep
the Mondays of present
follow the rhythm
of the Sundays in past
Blank years in and out. This is daily life.
And then the sudden moment of being: the stab of memories, the sting of longings, the slaughter of time. There is no screaming tragedy in ordinary life.
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/the-myth-of-sisyphus-tanka-prose/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Spiritual Birth</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/spiritual-birth/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/spiritual-birth/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 05 Jan 2010 04:15:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Michal Mahgerefteh]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1170</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michal Mahgerefteh 
Above and around the Mercy Seat
stretched wings encode His Will 
to the Material Universe through
the ever changing horizons: the sun, 
the moon, the stars-at their zenith.
Nevuah uses words to encompass
a mark upon the forehead of men
falling like rain from heaven. And 
I, with an array of weaving, wrap
the Fabric of Time around [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/spiritual-birth/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Love During Wartime</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/love-during-wartime/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/love-during-wartime/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jan 2010 17:26:55 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Howie Good]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=196</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Howie Good
Time to crack open that bottle
the previous tenants bequeathed to us.
We can drink to whatever you want -
lack of sleep, importune prayers,
another day of freedom from the landlord&#8217;s
fretful knock &#8211; then tumble into bed,
our bones loosened, our minds in happy
disarray, despite, or perhaps because,
it&#8217;s now light, and there&#8217;s a kind of war
outside our [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/love-during-wartime/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Dreamer</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/the-dreamer/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/the-dreamer/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Jan 2010 17:26:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joseph Milosch</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Joseph D. Milosch]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/the-dreamer/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Joseph Milosch
locket cleavage
pictures Bobby K.
Martin hold gold
not skin
dreamer.
fold fingers
twine time
foundry parking
lot Luther
shot.
Dreamer! mustang
seat kiss
and J. Brown&#8217;s
voice
molten steel flakes
loss King
kissing.
Dreamer dream
Aretha fissure
crack in concrete
learn wrong
side of street
Junior.
yellow line fine
your walk my walk
sidewalks are
parallel lines, and bullets
travel in.
Dreamer no more
chocolate
melting
fingertips no
more smiles.
Guess whose not
coming to dinner?
clop clop
horse trots
I cry tears
hearse tears
dreamer.
Dreamer now
why should
we live
together?
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/the-dreamer/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Faith</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/faith/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/faith/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2010 04:15:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Michael Constantine McConnell</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Michael Constantine McConnell]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=169</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Michael Constantine McConnell
Got tore up again, my face
a bloated meatloaf, a roadmap
of burst blood vessels and sadness.
I drink whiskey to baptize
the maggots I feel squirming
in my belly, unraveling the core,
building highways and fleeing
to the suburbs. I blow kisses
into the wind, hope one will carry
to Dallas, find you asleep under
warm blankets and enter your dreams.
May [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/faith/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Laugh, Laugh, I Made You Cry</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/laugh-laugh-i-made-you-cry/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/laugh-laugh-i-made-you-cry/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2010 04:15:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Neal Whitman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Prof.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Neal Whitman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1237</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Neal Whitman, Poetry Prof
Last month I got one of those &#8220;end of the year&#8221; bonus checks â€“â€“ no, nothing like what Wall Street investment bankers get â€“â€“ but a hearty response to the December 1 Poetry Prof piece on whether or not haiku was poetry. One of the readers who posted a comment, AgSynclair, [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/laugh-laugh-i-made-you-cry/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The New Year 2010</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/the-new-year-2010/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/the-new-year-2010/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Jan 2010 04:14:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Neal Whitman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Prof.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Neal Whitman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1233</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Neal Whitman
The New Year
For those of you who have been on this site for a full year, you already know that there are five seasons in the Japanese calendar. So, here is our New Year haiku. This feature is not the time, nor the place, for Politics. But, please forgive me if I share [...]]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/the-new-year-2010/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Winter Haiku</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/winter-haiku-2/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/winter-haiku-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 21 Dec 2009 04:03:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Neal Whitman</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry Prof.]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Neal Whitman]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1231</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Winter â€”Â the season of cold. Solstice â€”Â an instant in time. A tilt. Isn&#8217;t that just like a haiku?Â phrase â€¢ breath â€¢ fragment
I invite you on the Winter Solstice to take a breath and read this one aloud, perhaps at 5:47 p.m. to be exact.
atop a lone pine
a shrike in silhouette â€”
winter solstice
]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://shortpoem.org/winter-haiku-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Night comes and I stare</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/night-comes-and-i-stare/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/night-comes-and-i-stare/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2009 03:23:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mark Jackley]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/2008/12/night-comes-and-i-stare/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Mark Jackley
Night comes and I stare
at the spruce in my front yard.
It teeters in the breeze
like a shy dancer
holding the hem of her dress,
on the verge of leaping,
any second now,
towards dark applause.
Originally posted 2008-12-08 23:01:20. ]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>La playa ensenada  1982</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/la-playa-ensenada-1982/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/la-playa-ensenada-1982/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2009 03:23:23 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Editor</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Stephanie Silvia]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/2008/07/la-playa-ensenada-1982/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Stephanie Silvia
la playa
ensenada  1982
a giant female thigh
spreads herself across the sand
a ridge, a valley, a  mountain
this is how the earth was made
Originally posted 2008-07-26 15:31:00. ]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>American Life in Poetry</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/american-life-in-poetry-11/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/american-life-in-poetry-11/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Dec 2009 03:23:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>S. Dale Knight</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Features]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[American Life in Poetry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/?p=1234</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[By Ted Kooser, U.s. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
Family photographs, how much they do capture in all their elbow-to-elbow awkwardness. In this poem, Ben Vogt of Nebraska describes a color snapshot of a Christmas dinner, the family, impatient to tuck in, arrayed along the laden table. I especially like the description of the turkey.
Grandpa Vogtâ€™sâ€”1959
The food is [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Workday before Christmas</title>
		<link>http://shortpoem.org/workday-before-christmas/</link>
		<comments>http://shortpoem.org/workday-before-christmas/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Dec 2009 19:57:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Joseph Milosch</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[New]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Joseph D. Milosch]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://shortpoem.org/workday-before-christmas/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[by Joseph Milosch
Torrey pines,
buckwheat,
black sage,
and beside a granite
boulder
deer tracks,
rabbit droppings,
a coyote&#8217;s nose
sniffing,
rubbed on dirt,
licked.
A wind blown cloud
descends slopes,
coats windows,
exhaust stacks,
and vinyl seats
of dozers.
I remove
the ripper&#8217;s pin
with hammer &#8211; punch.
Feel sweat,
fog,
steel, dirt,
later
rain.
After work
I drive home in darkness
undress
in the work shed,
scrape mud
from my boots,
bang mud off socks,
off knees of jeans.
I run to the kitchen
wearing
jacket,
shorts,
sandals.
Smell tamale makings
chile, masa
garlic, [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
