Showing results for Poetry
Asleep in the National Museum
Connor Messinger
He paints using the ashes of the towers in his watercolors.
Not a Walk On The Beach
Jennifer Metsker
The air before me
is the flavor of
an oat cake popsicle.
Or a shoe box.
Or the water sports
I’m not doing.
So I sign for
a prescription
while all the world
is water sporting
in
My Father Remembers, Forgets
Kathleen Hellen
Fifty cents for tickets in the bleachers—then. Fifty cents a railroad car to Pittsburgh.
A “marvel” they’d called it. Three tiers of steel, the façade terracotta, the balls off
the deck, bouncing.
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?
Recent Books
Pregaming Grief
Danielle Chelosky
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
Backwardness
Garielle Lutz
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Delivery 4-6 weeks!
Dear Nico: the Diary of Elizabeth Ellen (Nov, 2018-Feb, 2020)
Elizabeth Ellen
"Is this the actual diary you wrote at the time? The diary reads a lot like a novel, with its motifs of the murderess, the acupuncturist, etc." -Garielle Lutz, author of Worsted and The Complete Gary Lutz