the rotary dial

best new poetry in form

Weeds are not supposed to grow
but by degrees
some achieve a flower, although
no one sees.

From the November Issue



Arranged in a spectral ladder,
flanked by a sable brush,
eight color tablets on a blending platter
invite me in to wash

the tedium from a plain day,
infuse it with a hue.
I lift the mixture up and let it play
where paper leads it through

a hall of crooked mirrors,
a capillary chute
to rinse an image free of any errors
adhering to its root.

You bloom out of the pallor.
My brush comes to a rest.
The page now filled with unimagined color,
I am its grateful guest.


A three-time finalist for the Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award, most recently in 2015, and a 2013 semifinalist for the Anthony Hecht Poetry Prize, Claudia Gary is author of Humor Me (David Robert Books 2006) and several chapbooks, including Bikini Buyer's Remorse. Her poems appear in journals internationally and in anthologies such as Forgetting Home (Barefoot Muse 2013) and Villanelles (Everyman Press 2012). Claudia's tonal chamber music and art songs have been performed at venues from New York to Colorado, and several have been published in Sparrow, Upstart, and Angle Poetry Journal. Her articles on health appear in The VVA Veteran and elsewhere.

Twitter: @claudiagary