Author: Constance Brewer

  • Poet of the Day – Candice Kelsey

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    Constance Brewer
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    National Poetry Month April 3, 2020 Candice Kelsey Megxit                           for Meghan Markle   This poem is the press This line the Daily Mail This caesura – your father These letters your letter   This stanza breaks Like the shutter Of a super telephoto lens   And this alliteration Is afterthought arising Around Archie…

  • Poet of the Day – Liz Jorgensen

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    Constance Brewer
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    National Poetry Month April 2, 2020 Liz Jorgensen My High School Students   They look like sweatpants and sleep. They smell like gym, like Axe and dew. They taste of rebellion and sound of gossip and heartache. Yet when they graduate, they feel like people—like purpose, like pride.   My High School Students appeared in…

  • Poet of the Day – Gail Tyson

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    Constance Brewer
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    National Poetry Month April 1, 2020 Gail Tyson Darning the Wounded Tongue   Half-dog, half-camel, with bottomless eyes, the creature kneels beside me like a sphinx. Erect, tall in a Queen Anne chair, I gaze ahead. Neither of us makes a sound.   The creature kneels beside me in a pale room, silvery light casting…

  • It’s Our Fifth Anniversary and We Have News

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    Constance Brewer
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    We have plenty of news to share with you today: the Gyroscope Review fifth anniversary, a stellar spring issue, and a change to our masthead. Gyroscope Review Celebrates Five Years of Publication The spring 2020 of Gyroscope Review marks five years of publishing this journal, collaborating to bring you voices from far and wide, and…

  • A Poet, a Notebook, and a Pencil Walk into a Bar…

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    Constance Brewer
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    It’s closing in on that time again. National Poetry Month. Are you prepared? Lots of folks use the month to generate new work, doing the Poem A Day thing. There are prompts galore out there for those who want to give writing a poem every day a try. Sometimes you need a little bit more…

  • Sink the Shot and Save the Poem

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    Constance Brewer
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    Let’s talk about ending poems. Reading through slush I’m always looking for a kick-ass ending to a poem. It’s like watching a close basketball game. Last quarter, 2 seconds on the clock, poet racing down the page. Here’s the throw at the buzzer and Ohh…..it bounces off the rim.  I hate that.  I want the…