Showing results for Poetry
Talk Show Poems & other miscellany
Elizabeth Ellen
Letterman wore khakis and the camera angled up his crotch. I watched every night or set my VCR to record on the rare occasion I left my apartment.
Three Poems
Karen J. Weyant
I ended up in right field, ponytail eschew, cap falling to the bridge of my nose, shadowing my freckled cheeks.
Three poems
Erik Kennedy
I fear being buried alive, but I insist on being buried when I'm dead.
Self-guided tours
Lacey Rowland
Self-guided tour: Exhibit #9 from the National Museum of Broken Marriages
A medium says to channel the late wife through beloved objects. I press my ear to a mug, a journal, my husband’s chest.
glossary of coping mechanisms
Jessica Morey-Collins
Glass of Water—
Selves rasp against each other. Mother's little bucket of wisdom tipped over; teacher's sweet girl has curdled. Mere glimpse of the calm hand of an honest femme could heal—cool
Chelsea Martin Poems
Elizabeth Ellen
In these poems I am using ‘Chelsea Martin’ as a pseudonym for someone who is not Chelsea Martin.
three poems
Mary Boo Anderson
I've been socialized to be alive / the quiet death of women eating salad
Three Poems
Dana Alsamsam
We lie here together, gold in charred hands, / pulling the ash from each other’s hair.
Five Poems
David Schaefer
This is the most difficult sermon, / The one where the disciples / Burn the hamburger buns and / Christ nearly misses his train.
Four Poems
Vandana Khanna
I grow our loneliness in my mouth, feed you— / sweet and bleak— under a halo of buzzing stars.
Five Poems
Elizabeth Schmuhl
The snow is beautiful and I want to die. Who could / refuse this softness?
From, "COMPANY"
Emily Hunt
It isn't natural / for a thin stem with fruits / to sprout up – / they're heavy, / they're supposed to just hang.
Three Poems
Mariel Fechik
I dream myself into a field that is lime green. There is a branch in my lungs, and I can’t love like I used to. This is a ghost story.
Three Poems
Christine Stroud
The Gemini
It would be a lie to say I always went to bed with one brother
and woke up with another—that at night he placed pomegranate
seeds on my belly, making constellations on my
Three Poems
Nathan Wade Carter
I sip red wine and weed / and deface anything that looks like me
Recent Books
Pregaming Grief
Danielle Chelosky
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
Backwardness
Garielle Lutz
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!