Tag: Poetry

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.…
Sara Adams: Three Erasures

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Head Librarian Erasure from Stephen King’s It Love Poem Erasure from Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea His Heart Was Shit Erasure from Stephen King’s It Sara Adams is the author of three chapbooks: Think Like a B (SOd Press), Poems for Ivan (Porkbelly Press)…
“Principia // Love Song for Faye Valentine,” a poem by T.A. Noonan

She is Reagan, Jillian, Cream Dream—the starlet has changed her name again. Freckles silhouetted against the same American bodysuits & foolish heels. Her breasts are perfect models of Newton’s universal gravitation that the vulgar conceive. Over a hundred pornos in her alias, & we are to admit no more causes of natural things. Or she…
Jacqueline Boucher Poetry: “Radioactive”

In the aftermath, the first things to grow are the horns. We fleshy ibex in threadbare sweaters clash in subcutaneous bump and grind, in hemorrhage & broken bone. I leave one eye at the foot of a gutted soda fountain, tin of ravioli clutched in my fist like pennies. Before: we got gas there, swapped…
Five Antarctica Poems by Dennis James Sweeney

70°5’S 65°40′E In the Antarctic Circle, our main concern is self-husbandry. Cutting dark chops from the dark sky. Identifying lifelong manacles. Feeling for the key. Suspending paper katydids from the ceiling at just the right angle: the difference between Hank’s breath and the hot, light breeze of the radiator. They trigger different flights. At times…
Two Poems by C.M. Keehl

an act of desperation we have all done this kind of thing so I’ll send a postcard because light is tricky only being measured in meeting of crests I was here oncewhere the moon crests the pines to light a pool I sat in summer heat if you play your cards right I’ll give you…