Category: Poetry

Flavor Town USA Poetry: “Oranges” by Laurel Benjamin

A woman has taken a man into the kitchen, shows him the panstripped of its black coat—Taken years to form, she says, and grabs the unscented orange cleanser, like pickingthe tree, a globe ready to burst. She dreams the past, gurney ride down a hallway, and under the gas she’s breast-stroking in the pool with…
Side A Poem: “The Next Time I Talk to My Friends” by Peter Leight

The Next Time I Talk to My Friends I’m not leaving anything outNot putting anything awayThat I haven’t taken outAs part of the same projectWhen it’s dark insideWe’re sitting down together and turning on the lights quickly like William JamesIn order to see what the darkness looks likeThere are times when we lookAt the same…
Poetry from Flavor Town USA: “Death Is on the Menu” by Anthony Cappo

Morning groggy, anxiety spike, and stumble out the door. Café smells of coffee, French toast, and menace. Every morning death on the menu. Maybe not written— might be down-low house special— but always there. You can’t “86” death. Chills the forks and spoons lying on the table. It looks slimming, grins the maître d’. The…
Bad Survivalist: Three Poems by David A. Kirschenbaum & Sean Cole

Colorado Naropa—1992, 1993, 1994, 1997, 1998 Naropa—1996 I missed you and now miss you. I mean, not now, because you are here. (I just touched you.) Of course you did. After all I’m newly 40. 15 years since pilgrimage to show Ginsberg four poems. July 4th picnic, him making graphite pizza from all my drivel.…
Gerald Wagoner: Four Poems for Bad Survivalist

Your Second Marriage The instant she spoke you knew it was coming. When she wanted you to meet him, it was a long freight trainlaid out across a distant prairie sky. You knew something was coming.She fucked you suddenly on Monday. The train stretched over yellowing grain. A black horizon on a fair weather day. She white…
Poetry for Side A: “Mantle of Bread” by Tina Cane

On the front Napoleon refused to eat Russian bread dark and heavy as a mantle it was du pain pour Nicole he said before feeding it to his horse this story is of course too delightful to be true but I do confess I like keeping it alive in the telling tonight trees are bowing…
The Future Has Poetry: “Poem (hive emoji flag mind)” by Ben Tripp

hive emoji flag mind waking up virtue no quality but in repetition parasocial, brutal efficiency, it is its own counter-effect. The paradox of tolerance, and the un- tolerable, de facto exceptionalizing horoscopes today read simply “cut” and I rode the train with caution, drafting apology letters for later in my mind already. I held up…
New Poetry for Side A: “My Curriculum Vide, eh!” by Éamonn Ó Laocha

My Curriculum Vide, eh! Dear Sir/Madam To whomever you are and in regard to Whatever it is You are offering I am very excited to apply It is that which I’ve long sought And to which My whole purpose and being Has been heretofore directed To this amazing opportunity Oh, what joyful chance That on…
Haunted Passages Poetry: Five Killings by Scott Ferry

2. the dermatologist looks over my skin to see if something dead has boiled up from under the surface a rusted car with intact remains or if something has been branded into my hide by ultraviolet by hate and cruelty dried blood on the map of man he burns off damage with ice before it…