August 2023
Bio Note: I am founding editor and former publisher of South Florida Poetry Journal and author of five poetry collections. My poetry has appeared in One, Verse-Virtual, Nimrod, Seattle Review., Laurel Review., Fairy Tale Review and others. Poems forthcoming in Last Stanza Poetry Journal. I was interviewed by Grace Cavalieri for The Poet and The Poem on NPR and have been nominated for a Pushcart. The Epoem is a new form on display at Witchery, which is embedded online at South Florida Poetry Journal.
Author's Note: About Epoems
The E shape began organically.
I had written a few poems whose shape on the page resembled, vaguely, a big E, so I began deliberately forming them into an E.
Eventually, I added constraints-
There must be the same number of lines above the middle line as there are below it.
No stanza breaks. No page breaks.
The middle line strives to be the turn. (sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t)
The way the poem looks on the page is my primary concern.
Above all I'd rather not publish an Epoem if the integrity of the E shape cannot be maintained.
Author's Note: About Epoems
The E shape began organically.
I had written a few poems whose shape on the page resembled, vaguely, a big E, so I began deliberately forming them into an E.
Eventually, I added constraints-
There must be the same number of lines above the middle line as there are below it.
No stanza breaks. No page breaks.
The middle line strives to be the turn. (sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t)
The way the poem looks on the page is my primary concern.
Above all I'd rather not publish an Epoem if the integrity of the E shape cannot be maintained.
Ode to an Imaginary Woman
My lover walks her tiger along the white beach.
High up, a kite
mocks my mistake.
Is it chuckling?
Half asleep, the sun
comes up still. Gulls and terns,
fifty dirty
apostrophes in air
cry, but I
can’t hear them.
Sails at sea,
a hundred men
who’ve left women
in coves, on islands,
in salty towns.
I stand at my window watching her at play and ease,
watch her jog
with her new beast
along the surf’s
never-ending prayer.
Men like me
disappear in her
breath like
hand-flung kisses.
Poets might say
she only loves
fists of water
and a sun full
of summer
in the fall.
They’d say she loves briefly, never always, always.
©2023 Lenny DellaRocca
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL