Tag: Poetry

  • “What the body will say when you’re dead”: A New Side A Poem by Jeff King

    “What the body will say when you’re dead”: A New Side A Poem by Jeff King

    What the body will say when you’re dead He swallowed pills   abilify   aristada   atenolol   benzodiazepine   buspar  chantix   divalproex sodium   lithium   paxil  warfarin   zoloft   zyprexa   for thoughts   that didn’t make sense  for fixing a body He lived   smoking a cigarette   on the porch   in the street   in a portrait with ferns   a portrait of placid water   …

  • “One Punch”: A Haunted Passages Prose Poem by John Wall Barger

    “One Punch”: A Haunted Passages Prose Poem by John Wall Barger

    Either he dies or I die.—Duk-Koo Kim, before his 1982 world championship boxing match with Ray Boom Boom Mancini I. The boxer Duk-Koo Kim grew up poor in Kojin, a fishing village east of Seoul. Whenever he asked for money his mother walloped him. His mother married four times. At fourteen he moved to Seoul,…

  • Haunted Passages: Three Poems by Rita Mookerjee

    Haunted Passages: Three Poems by Rita Mookerjee

    Pyre The ghost vibrates with the furyof someone who was flayed alivebut I like to pretend his death wasdignified like the silent drop ofa tiger lily petal no witnesses noscreams when he is awake henever stops working relentlessand viscous like mercury and herises from a soft grave to chop uphickory logs even though it takeshours…

  • Flavor Town USA Poetry: “How We Make Do” by Ginger Ayla

    Flavor Town USA Poetry: “How We Make Do” by Ginger Ayla

    My grandma said in the Depression they ate specks of marrow from the bone, in the Depression they’d wear out every man-made material to deterioration, so determined they were to love things to death. I am familiar with the economics of diminishing, have added more until it became less, squandered like backs and necks of…

  • “Shrouded by death & isolation is a promise / a future”: Haunted Passages Poetry by Brekken Carns

    “Shrouded by death & isolation is a promise / a future”: Haunted Passages Poetry by Brekken Carns

    I. Wanted: the dead image of her human face — a sheep butchered on the dewy grass tongue dangling below its pale soft nose newborn-pink eyes frozen wild in terror (terror such a wild thing) as if in formalin the back right leg torn clean off, jagged muscles steaming and gone ripped from socket a…

  • “Openings”: William Lessard Interviews Adeena Karasick & Warren Lehrer

    “Openings”: William Lessard Interviews Adeena Karasick & Warren Lehrer

    Adeena Karasick is a Canadian poet based in New York. She is also a media artist, cultural theorist, and author of 14 books. Her most recent books include Ærotomania: The Book of Lumenations (Lavender Ink, 2023) and Massaging the Medium: 7 Pechakuchas (The Institute of General Semantics Press, 2022), which was shortlisted for Outstanding Book…

  • Three Poems by Rushing Pittman

    Three Poems by Rushing Pittman

    For a long time I’m unhappy then I’m fine … I’m fuller than any moon.I’m made of cobalt hearts.I’m everything inside the multitude of another.Here I am inside my kitchen peeling an apple.The apple takes up the entire room.Wonderful living with you and seeing you.No, I let you sleep.Or why we love or what love…

  • A Haunted Passages Poem: “The Red Kickball” by Jason Melvin

    A Haunted Passages Poem: “The Red Kickball” by Jason Melvin

    We thought it’d be funnot waiting for nightfallsticky summer afternoon séancesun high up in the skyeight of us     just kissing the teen yearshanging out on my back porchalways in search of a thrill and a scare We circled up      discussed next movesWhen all four grandparents and your fatherare dead by time you’re eleventhere are plenty…

  • New Poetry by Cloe Watson: “Mothers”

    New Poetry by Cloe Watson: “Mothers”

    Remember when the sky fell below our feet,time wasting at the fringes? It became the cracks we stepped on in fear and joy, slipperyin their changing. Remember the clouds, love? How they became our stepping stoneswhen we had to go separate ways, the tall hill between our homes steep with longingand real monsters. As the…