Showing results for Poetry
three poems
Yvonne Amey
The Years Dad Blamed the Breeze
Some nights I imagine Dad as the lift in a shoe or wing of a plane—
his wisdom packed with imaginary insight:
all shadows have eyes,he'd say, stoking the embers
Conversation Between the Girl and her Drugs
Aumaine Rose Gruich
“and where’s the melody
to remedy the melody, the remedy to remedy the remedy”
-Diane Seuss
Last ever moments of falling
asleep with you, last
ballooning mood & heartbeat
so I
three poems
Samantha DeFlitch
Macy’s Closeout Sale
I am curious what newcomers think of my city,
but it is not really
three poems
Marcy Rae Henry
seeds
when nothing smells like you
i let dawn-colored fruit rot in the blue bowl
spray perfume thru the air and try to touch
myself the way you touched me
too bad we met/never met
Dean Young
Justin Jannise
I leave behind a lot of empty wine bottles.
You said eat anything in the fridge and I did
right down to the last gherkin.
Unrelated: your turtle is dead.
You failed to mention it and I failed
to
San Francisco Municipal Bus Routes 43 & 38R
Steven Duong
July yawns. Flashes its grills...
from Knock It Off
Tara Boswell-Ramirez
When your father and I found out you were a boy I remembered the time in my early twenties a co-worker at my first restaurant job invited me out for a drink with the crew after our shift. He drove me
Three Poems
Fiona Helmsley
I kept my thoughts about Bitchface Becky to myself
but then Beyoncé did something magical
Three Poems
Brody Parrish Craig
Bible | Vers
Top to Bottom | scan my profile | For Christ’s Sake | Sing Jesus’ Name | I gospel & apostle | Book of Vers | My rural bottom’s up | My crop /top | down along the road | a hym(n) in
Letter Home from Hyperspace #2
Zoë Ryder White
There’s a song in my figurative head
that I can’t shake loose.
When I was a body,
I did so many things with my hands,
I can’t count.
Around here it smells like lightning,
like plasma.
The Worshipping Beast
Brian Clifton
All that whimpers isn’t want.
One spring, I pulled
a reed from an oboe.
I planted it by a pond.
Instantly, it grew
dense at the water’s edge.
The wind told lie after lie—
black
Recent Books
Pregaming Grief
Danielle Chelosky
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
Exit, Carefully
Elizabeth Ellen
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub
Backwardness
Garielle Lutz
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Delivery 4-6 weeks!


