The Tusculum Review

TTR is proud to present a work of poetry by Broc Rossell.

The Acropolis She was saying nothing with stones. The sun barely warmed her blood. Once a century she dreams but they are shadows of fishes, she sleeps deeply under trees. He dreams of trees, surrounded by stone. He passes sunlight over himself with one small beam, running a matchbook over his rib. When she smells [...]

We’re pleased to present excellent poems by TTR advisory board member and friend Martin Lammon.

Wives’ Tales Newlywed mothers hear stories, how killing a spider is bad luck. How daddy longlegs, mouthless, conceals poison in its belly, maybe the death of curious children. Grandmothers-to-be tell tales about neglected doll-babies, chubby fingers spooning husks of flies and cobwebs into their pretty mouths. When I lived in Costa Rica, I saw a [...]

Heaven Sent God forbid, my neighbor should croak and be Heaven sent, dragging his yawping dogs with him. God forbid, they should prowl their lazy master’s gold leaf streets and wild gardens hereafter, where resurrected rabbits, fearless, nibble radishes and romaine lettuce. God forbid, my neighbor’s hounds be forced to sniff unscented, sexless air, spin [...]

The Animals Are Out Sunday morning, the animals are out: woodpecker, squirrels, my neighbor’s dogs. I hear claws scratching, look up, and damn if those squirrels aren’t racing up and down my sweet gum tree. There goes that pileated pecker, hammering the dead pine. And the dogs? Don’t get me started. They could wake the [...]

Click here to read new poems by TTR friend Ken Robidoux.

So It’s Wednesday and Celeste is Dead A couple pitchers of Natty Light, maybe three, at the Oasis and every fifteen minutes a middle-aged stretch mark spins on a brass pole behind the bar to Bon Jovi, Cinderella, Poison, this time it’s Warrant “Cherry Pie”… Half a dozen silent sweaty fat guys, whose sweaty fat [...]

Turn Smile Shift Repeat Like someone that’d say veranda instead of porch, I woke up this morning in an angry bed. All six comforters, both feather beds, eight pillows and three stuffed animals wrapped around me. Playing melodramatic, all distraught at my misfortune, I wrangled an arm free and lit a cigarette (don’t tell my [...]

Simple Desert Skies                               for Tom Sydow Train, Train, rolling wheels tumbling, You beat steel beam and bravado. Clank and cacophony are your contradictions As syncopated earth rhythms sing your song. Ground gives way. Iron trestles groan. Mountains become tunnels, territories sutured by your timbre. You dealt destiny in your glory days. A train stop meant [...]