Tag: Poetry

Asa Montgomery: Three Poems from The Future

Like having your eyes sewn shut 1 Someone planted a treein my stomach. Roots tore through my ribs, limbs pokingunder my fingertips. Light splintered bark. My fingers felt the sun in the backs of human necks.Leaves brushed the backs of my lips. Invisible birds karee karee-ing,moths’ creaking their door hinge wings, leaving white dust in…
Clara Trippe: Three Poems

Silence for Those Who NestA poem for Homero Gómez González, environmental activist and protector of monarch butterflies You sleep with a closed fist, and uncurl your fingers in the morning. Lyingwhen you say your dreams were gentle: your peace is none of my business.The oils on our palms are…
The Future: Three Poems by Holly Day

Despite My Reservations Regarding the Apocalypse the dragon outside my bedroom window tells methat the end is coming soon, that it’s okay to get drunkfucked up, fuck around, because it’s all going to come crashing downso very soonthat there’s no reason to practice prudence or prudishness. it blinks its giganticblue-green eyes at me through the…
Four Poems from The Future by Jim Redmond

Aperture I don’t know why I had to start doubting GodI thinkit might have something to do with the governmentsomething about the redshiftI think many strange things I have not thoughtbeforemany small mothscovering my facethe lengthof their tongueslike what it mustfeel like to have skinsearching across methe life expectancyof so many lonely starsthat I don’t…
Alice Hall: “O SONG BOX,” a visual poem hybrid for Bad Survivalist

*Ed.’s Note: click image to view larger size. Alice Hall is a poet and educator currently pursuing her PhD in the Poetics Program at the University at Buffalo, SUNY. Before Buffalo, she taught poetry and writing in Portland, Oregon, where she earned her MFA. Her poems are published or forthcoming from Cleaver Magazine, Prelude, Dream…
Lauren Ireland: Two Poem Rituals for Haunted Passages

Ritual for Becoming Unborn Become a secretthat turns itself inside outbecome the remotest part of yourselfbecome a snake that becomes a dark boatslicing through black brackish waterrich mud, crackling dying thingsquiet dead things.The moon cuts the water andthat’s where you fit your bodyinto the groove of cold light.The water closes around you.The water reflects nothing.Think…
Haunted Passages: “Samples from a Wichita Mountains Ontology,” a hybrid haunting by Seth Copeland

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. One summer a man fell while rappelling in the Narrows//We could hear him moan up on a cliff/his friends bright puffy squirrels circling//A helicopter lifted him out to Oklahoma City//We never heard what his next ascent was / purple horsemint flanks the lakesidetower\\we gargoyle the boulders keepingpeople…
Bonnie Billet: “Dr Larry Nassar,” a poem

when you stand up to speakyou’re suckerpunchedtold you don’tunderstand ‘the nuanced difference between sexual assaultand an appropriate medical procedure’ he pawed your small girl titshe twisted his fingers into your cunt indifferencegave the doctor all the time he needed wearing 4 pairs of underwearand having your mother in the office doesn’t stop the abuse…
“call the necromancer”: Four Poems by Leia Penina Wilson for Haunted Passages

volta OR these snapdragon flower seed pods look like little skulls because it’s all imagination & horror baby can youimagine i liketo lookat myself& i never become obsessed— would youlike to lookat my gothic: all the virgin eyes in the worldare made of glass —horror —horror —horror accumulated knowledge abstract: to eroticwith pleasure to ward…