Tag: Poetry

New Poetry for Bad Survivalist: “when i say i still think of you in august” by Cate Latimer

i mean that when i saw that truck full of chickens on highway 5, feathers grazing yellow lines, i wished on their mangled bodies and white wings pinned like fallen gods to the road. you taught me to do that. you, who left streaks of lipstick on my dashboard and playing cards in my center…
New Poetry by Matthew Johnson: “My Front Yard in Summer”

The Moon felt like a tingly blur on my skin, And as it gradually slid down my shoulder through my forearm,I tried to smack at it like it was a marsh mosquito, Or an arcade game of whack-a-mole. We soft tossed Wiffle balls when the sun went down,And the whistle of the breeze passing through the hollow,…
Paul Ilechko: Three Poems for Bad Survivalist

Truck Stop The sky was a grid of varying colorsnone of which were visible to the naked eyebut the man vaping in the cab of an F-150knew instinctively that he was parkedbelow a quadrant of the darkest magentathe handle clicked as a door swung openand a body hauled itselfinto the passenger seattattoos glowing fluorescent under…
New for Side A: Three Poems from WHAT by Robert Kocik

proto-anything Sunrise light day sunset night dark. Sharpness of shape-less white against blue. Unbearability of ticking. Grievance blight, life changing quiet, the way of thingswith/out us. Another antler chandelier. Sculptor’s field of marvels overgrown. Blooms of jellyfishclogging aircraft carrier’s cooling system. Nail polish next to erythromycin. ‘Composting’… a wordfor earth’s reaction to our works our…
Poetry by Sarah Fawn Montgomery: “Wading”

Father taught me craftwas the way to catch fish from a lureminnow shining. Hope was a fool’s lesson.Skill was flesh hung from a hook, casteasily into indifferent water. I pulled bodies breathlessfrom safety to shore, watched rainbows thrashat my muddied boots. Flaking flesh from brittlebone I feasted when full. Sometimes I tossed bodiesback into the…
Flavor Town USA Poetry: “Why Not the Cherry Tree” by Matthew James Friday

with its dark web of branchesoffering galaxies of darkening orbs. At Idiot’s Grace Farm – Pick Your Ownmy middle-school nephew proudlyconquers ladders and black hole branchesone star at a time. I stand below, an Odin steadying the ladder,belly-bucket layering with half-heartedlabors, one eye on him, the otheron cherries bouncing below. We consume half the universein…
Poetry by Alexandra Burack: “Any Second Chance of a Town”

We small-town dead crabgrass over the cracked bluewalls of the grange, where the post-mistress deliversdead letters beaming with flora of flourishing landsin the upper-right corner. Our young always meantto go there, those parks and strip malls outstretchedbeyond the frames our portraits wilt inside. If onlyvo-ag folk knew crops the way nanas knew suffering,that perfect loam…
“Bones Blush Brilliant in the Soft Light”: A Conversation with Virgil Suárez

It’s a couple of months to poetry month as I write this. Back when I was a kid poet reading in secret in my bedroom or, later on, rocking it on the Lower East Side, poetry didn’t have a month. Or, if it did, I didn’t know about it. It would have seemed silly to…
Poetry from The Future: “Flood Warning” by Constance Clark

It is incredibly sad Rainwater sits on top of concave dirtdressed in a ripples of amusement Steel raindrops crushed cattails at pondsideand made them learn to swim last night Nowhere Sunna, or Khepri,Amaterasu, or Ra to blot the earth The glistening fern bow, soaked,spilling stardust guts We stare with no replystanding in purple rubber boots…