Tag: Poetry

Justin Hamm: Three Prose Poems

Children in the Middle Ages Earlier that night, a middle-aged man dressed himself in a cape and green tights and shimmied up a tree to rescue his neighbor’s new kitten. We sat numbly over our steaming hamburger pie, watching first the climbing oil prices and then the live feed as our would-be hero lay in…
David Need: Four Poems from Goodnight Irene

March 12th 2011 Perhaps a ruined world & death offshore is we have to do, not related to a story that we cared, o, extinct birds & the red McD’s fried chicken box next to could be yellow dock or mallow leaves by a fence; outside this Atlantic is a city, slumped & death’s a…
Two Poems by MJ Santiago

daymares imagine if the sex were real imagine I am touching someone and they are casually mentioning their trip to Ireland with their parents, how they slept in a castle and it was beautiful and they want to go again next year and none of it makes me want to die imagine they are removing…
Nathan Wade Carter: Two Poems

Impossibly Large Horn I am parrots together.We telepath to concrete veins.We cross the black when told.We don’t like to practice.But that’s what water do. Weather spits and pisses on the grooves of canyons. What noise would this make, A right-size needle and an impossibly large horn? Coin toss into well. There’s a man down there…
Poetry by merrit k: “What I Meant When I Handed You the Key”

i’m tired of giving.i want you to takeeverything about meand crumple it into atidy heap besidethe hissing radiator. later we cando the work of unfoldingtogether, smoothing outnew lines with sure hands. for now, inward pressure,compression, andthe tense promiseof a spring. merritt k is a Canadian writer whose work investigates the conditions of intimacy in precarious…
Poetry by Kamden Hilliard: “Goat Theory”

is gruff and tumble. started from the bottom andit’s here. present. accounted for. the Greatestof All Time don’t do their own accounting. they don’tadd up. Icarus flew too close to the sun. Icarusis not a GOAT ‘cause GOATs hear too closeand wonder what the fuck yall’s talkin’ ‘bout.i mean, who hasn’t fantasized abt James Deanand…
Anne Champion Poetry: “Anne Sexton Prepares for the End”

After the shoulder heave of a garage door, my body weighs heavy in my shoes,a little slack, a little sagging— it’s no secret time is erasing me, and only vodka can wet my throat.I inhale its pungent punch, the scent familiar in its knock-out discomfort, just as my body is onlyfamiliar when the knots squeeze…
Emily O’Neill: “Preparing My Own Death,” a poem

there’s an obvious difference between Hawthorne & julep strainers, an obvious reason why some people can’t eat pineapple. an obvious recipe for property. for help. for solitude. I can’t stop me from horsehide / can’t suntan the virgin out. I’m shy & nobody believes me. the memorized proof: what’s loud can’t call itself afraid /…
Three Poems by David Wojciechowski

[In this dream I’m running a dream farm] In this dream I’m running a dream farm and glue factory. Dreams run everywhere. Even into the glue factory. One dream is on fire. This dream burns down the farm, the factory. The whole site is smoldering. People smell it from miles away. They wander wafting air.…