She has squeezed every drop from the lime of June.”

About Lisa Low

Lisa Low has had many careers---theatre critic, professor, book reviewer, writer, business owner, and poet. She received her doctorate in English Literature from the University of Massachusetts in 1986 and spent twenty years as an English professor, teaching at University of Massachusetts, Boston University, Cornell College, Colby College, and Pace University. In addition to her work as an educator, Low practiced briefly as a theatre critic for Christian Science Monitor Broadcasting.

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Excerpts

  • “She has squeezed every drop from the

    lime of June, every bit of it lapped

    on the held-out tongue.”

    “Genesis of Mrs. Dalloway”

    Crack the Spine

  • “A cargo of roses washing up on

    a shore; forty hands held out to touch

    me, could not be more beautiful

    than she is tonight, her eyes reflecting

    light, turning to the violets, the

    mantelpiece, the window and the night.”

    “Driving to Hotels for Lunch, the Day My Father Died”

    Phoebe: A Journal of Literary Arts

  • “My sister remembers childhood as

    standing up to her waist in mist, no

    one else around. My anger toward

    my mother is fog through which I

    barely see her. When she puts her

    arms around me, nothing burns the

    mist off. Nothing comes clear.”

    “Absent Parents”

    Evening Street Review

  • “By day we are free to paint, as if

    forever. By night we weave through

    the stars, dragging our umbilical cords

    like kite strings behind us. No longer

    beautiful. No longer tied to hard

    necessity, tender is the night we

    share, provisioned for eternity.”

    “Floating, for Eva”

    Tusculum Review

  • “From a distance I saw a frog,

    standing like a soldier in a field

    of summer grass.”

    “Blunt Force”

    Streetlight Magazine

  • “She has squeezed every drop from the

    lime of June, every bit of it lapped

    on the held-out tongue.”

    “Genesis of Mrs. Dalloway”

    Crack the Spine

  • “A cargo of roses washing up on

    a shore; forty hands held out to touch

    me, could not be more beautiful

    than she is tonight, her eyes reflecting

    light, turning to the violets, the

    mantelpiece, the window and the night.”

    “Driving to Hotels for Lunch, the Day My Father Died”

    Phoebe: A Journal of Literary Arts

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Recent Publications

“Love Poem to Oswald,” Potomac Review, #66, Spring, 2020

“On Throwing Away My Daughter’s Christmas Card Photo,” Potomac Review, #66, Spring, 2020.

“A Snowy Day,” BoomerLitMag, Volume V, No. 2

“Poet in New York,” BoomerLitMag, Volume V, No. 2

“Couples, Green with Envy,” Litbreak Magazine, March 19, 2020

“On a Farm,” Litbreak Magazine, March 19, 2020

“Cut Back,” Litbreak Magazine, March 19, 2020

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