Category: Poetry

Two Poems by Jim Whiteside

The Waters There is a flood in my mother’s hometownthat will wash away more than gravel roads,leave behind so much more than silt and driftwood.As the waters of the Mississippi crawl upthe floodwalls beyond the marks from years past—The Great Flood of 1913; The Hundred-Year Flood of 1952,the year of her birth—the people of Cairo…
“repeat means repeat means,” a poem by Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach

repeat means repeat means stop writing the same poemabout guns and cities and deadchildren who aren’t yours when there’s been so much rainthe sewers are spitting backwater writing the same poem you wander unpaved streetslooking for your son’s lost galoshas children who aren’t yours pretend to hold guns in his classroomaim crayons and legos and…
Poetry: “here, in my body” by Bianca Phipps

the process of getting an IUD wasin no waywhat I would call fun I can only describe it as reverse birth, except!with something very cold & metal & a fraction of the size of a human baby. (don’t let this be misleading.something the fraction of the size of a human babydoes not make it less…
“Dreamland Grandma Patch Notes Updates V 1.1,” a poem by Cori Bratby-Rudd

This update enhances the compatibility of Grandma with other programs. It will henceforth be renamed “Dreamland Grandma.” It is recommended for all users. Restart required. Based on user feedback, increased source material of queer texts/knowledge Decreased speech ability Decreased ability to comment on fashion choices Increased desire for generosity Deactivates critical capacities in regards to…
Two Pointed Objects, visual poems by William Lessard

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Fig. 12: Diagram for High-Capacity Automatic Rifle Fig. 16: Remote Control William Lessard has writing that has appeared in McSweeney’s, Brooklyn Rail, Hyperallergic, Prelude, FANZINE. His work has also been featured at MoMA PS1. He co-curates the Cool as F*** series in Brooklyn and is Poetry Editor…
“Eviction,” a poem by Brooke Ellsworth

The head of the primal tiger glared out at me in a blowout commercial space. Wine tastings take us into these nasty elevators, spoken for narrowness. The sun is “crazy” & boosted. A build-up of thunderheads here in blue Summer: a panicbombshell of meaningcan be fixedwith pairs ofex-000girlfriendsthere is the show-offMy thing is that I’m…
Poetry: Jared Joseph’s “Yes There’s No Litter, No Homeless”

matte and somehow stupid, the This (this photograph, tireless repetition of contingency arated without destroying them both; the windowpane me, in a severe tone: “Get back to Photography. What (however naive it might be): a desperate resistance to turn of the dead neously make another body for myself, I transform myself task) I have been…
Three Poems by Anne Champion

How Capitalism Breathes Through a gas mask/ in a uniform/ hurling tear gas/ with a chokehold/ elbow cocked like a gun/ deep inhale/ holding its breath/ ducking for cover during a mass shooting/ the aroma of factory chimneys smells like money/ through a gas mask/ does blood smell like power/ drop the noose/ drop the…
“Dear Dana Loesch,” an interactive poem by Rachael Shay Button

Dear Dana Loesch, Todaywhile you tweet,Parklandstudentsreturn:retrieve backpackscell phones,windbreakers,water bottles,chapstick,math books.Returnto classroomswhere they satsilentin supply closetseyes adjustingto darkears tunedto the soundof breathof shots. Dear Dana Loesch, You kept your kids away from public school homeschooled opposed testing standards wroteMamalougesabout raising your babies unrushed. Your children got to start slow lessons on the living room rug lunch…