Four-time Pushcart Prize nominee J.R. Solonche has been publishing poems in magazines, journals, and anthologies since the early 70s. He is coauthor of Peach Girl: Poems for a Chinese Daughter (Grayson Books).
Summer 2012
Table of Contents - Vol. VIII, No. 2
Poetry Fiction Translations Reviews
J.R. Solonche
In case of Jewish wedding, break glass.
In case of irreconcilable differences, break up.
In case of guests, break bread.
In case of beans, break wind.
In case of bull, break china.
In case of loss of faith, break vows.
In case of bribe, break word.
In case of breach, break through.
In case of musical, break leg.
In case of last straw, break camel’s back.
In case of sidewalk crack, break devil’s back.
In case of nonpayment, break knee caps.
In case of billiards, break clean.
In case of rouge, break bank.
In case of Knicks, break fast.
In case of birth, break water.
In case of Willie Sutton, break into.
In case of Alcatraz, break out.
In case of hives, break out.
In case of Jerry Lewis, break up.
In case of Martin and Lewis, break up.
In case of Judy Garland, break down.
In case of all hell, break loose.
In case of poem, break stanza.
In case of coffee, break.
The hearing test
says I’m losing it.
The higher frequencies
are less frequent.
The top register
does not register.
So good-by tree frogs.
Good-by crickets.
Good-by soprano.
Good-by clarino.
Good-by falsetto.
Good-by flute and piccolo.
Good-by playground squeals of delight.
Good-by.
Good-by.
Good-by.
His stethoscope, his
hard, cold third ear,
pressed against my chest,
“Take a breath,”
my physician says
as though offering me
a box full of his own
collection, each one
individually wrapped,
each one a better breath
than any of mine.“Breathe
in, hold it,” he says,
so this one I roll around
in my mouth, such a fine
brandy of breath he
has poured just for me.
© J.R. Solonche
