Wishes rippling: The poetry of Michael Minassian

By Michael Minassian


Throwing Coins

On the temple grounds
next to a stone bridge
I saw a small pond
and a statue
of the Buddha
standing in a small
cut-out of rock

visitors throwing
coins in the pond
and at the foot
of the statue
their wishes rippling
on the waters
long after they
are gone.



Short Lines

The poems she writes
are long and sleek
like her;

each word carrying
its own weight;
a gravitas.

still, I wonder
why she skimps
on her lines

and wish she
would stretch
them out,

letting us ride
along the rails
for a while

letting her hair
blow in the wind,
long gusts

to glimpse once
thoughts that
follow behind.



Wild West Show

Buffalo Bill looked a lot
like Gen. Armstrong Custer,
especially when he wore
his fringed jacket
and thigh high boots.

Sometimes Sitting Bull
would chase Bill in the Wild
West Show, sighting him
down his rifle and smile.

(Not knowing he’d
be dead in 5 years,
shot by his own tribal
police, while Bill would die
in bed in another century).

Later, they walked arm
in arm from the main tent
along a muddy path
stained brown like a faded
sepia print, pausing once
in the rain as the ghost
of Crazy Horse galloped
overhead in a cloud,
the train whistle
blowing in the distance
as sharp as Custer’s last cry.

Michael Minassian’s poems have appeared recently in such journals as Comstock Review, Fourth & Sycamore, Exit 7, Redactions, and Third Wednesday. He is also a Contributing Editor for Verse-Virtual, an online magazine. Amsterdam Press published a chapbook of his poems entitled The Arboriculturist in 2010.


  1. Michael Minassion’s poems have a mysterious, elegant allure that hint at possibilities pitched just beyond our hearing.


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