Tag Archive: Poetry

My mom cried on the floor because she was afraid of the police shooting me dead (after Charles Kinsey) — Marcus Lindsey

My mom cried on the floor because she was afraid of the police shooting me dead. My mom cried on the floor because she was afraid of the police shooting me My mom… Continue reading

2 Poems — Lisa Masé

What’s Worth Keeping What if it didn’t matter that your parents left to spend two years in Somalia, ripped you from Ferrara to live with estranged grandparents in Kansas? What would remain of… Continue reading

A Remarkable Wreck — Kevin Casey

As we noticed in the streets a handbill headed, “Death! one hundred and forty-five lives lost at Cohasset,” we decided to go by way of Cohasset.              … Continue reading

Family Values — Jude Marr

marriage is an institution for the insane— from disorder comes cohabitation, (procreation) psychic pain: siblings will be killers (cf. Cain) brother / traitor : sister / slap—and daddy’s little girl                                                                   grows up                                                                   insomniac—… Continue reading

Chased (But Still Chaste) — Ed Werstein

On viewing Apollonio di Giovanni di Tomaso’s Panel from a Marriage Chest with Story of Apollo and Daphne I. Cassone, Italian. An ornate box given to a bride and placed in the bridal… Continue reading

Animalia — K. S. Phillips

Foreword   Animalia, a fragmented epic of rhymed verse in 124 lines, is all that remains of the lost masterpiece of Coleridge McClintock Eng, navigator and poet aboard the Mischief, Lord Alfred Russell… Continue reading

Zero Standard — Gregory Kimbrell

The eyes of carved pterodactyls shed tears of acid that eat away at their stone contours and bore holes through the marble floor tiles that reflect the cold light of the supernova. Inside… Continue reading

Sleep Dance — Jerry McGuire

First the eyelids flop, then flutter, but even this nuance depends on the body’s trip-up, desire— all the bads and goodies of the day funneled through the bedframe, pinched by sheets and covers,… Continue reading

3 Poems, 3 Photographs, from Pop. 1280 — Alex Stolis

  Leaning into the Wind Her grandmother talked of curses. Passed down generations They’re a noose and a lifeline. Handmade. A pale band on her Ring finger. Sometimes she unfolds herself. He doesn’t… Continue reading

Nature, Green in Tooth and Claw — David M. Harris

Horseradish is the hegemon of that low, damp corner. Strawberries battle the weeds in their patch. Catnip (a dollar a bag at the farmer’s market) colonizes the Tennessee lawn. Two tomato plants fight… Continue reading

Greeting Earth Day With a Cento — Carol Was

a drift of disorder in the air like a tuba player in a house on fire. It’s always been that way, part of the social contract to seem to be where your body… Continue reading

2 poems — Kristi Maxwell

I wish not to reserve the gherkin for the king      her king, especially The ferns leaked green There were threats of jail-time There were threats of Jell-O shots, too One came to fruition                 one bore… Continue reading

from A Handbook for Introverts — Lindsay Bell

1. How to run : remember the grave danger in our bodies. How to rationalize running : from an ax-wielder                       from a dingo             or a baby                       from the bully who invariably will kick… Continue reading

2 Poems — Kyle McCord

Pictures of Us Here I am mowing            down tin cans with a .45            while the dog goes berserk you’re picking casings            from rose bushes            the gardener could chip a blade                       on the whacker… Continue reading

2 Poems — John Sibley Williams

CHILDHOODS As if catching a moth between two cupped hands, her yet-to-be-broken father holds her head above a sick- bed stained with a century’s illness. Through the winter window, fields of blackened lungs… Continue reading

THE PROBLEM WITH FRESH HOMEMADE PIZZA — Ronda Broatch

is where you place the sun-dried tomatoes. Too near the surface they burn, little islands charred in a sea of gorgonzola. Black olives are best broken and drowned, as the tomatoes must be,… Continue reading

The Answer to Your Question is, “We Will Be Doing This Dance Involving Sun and Clouds Again Tomorrow — Cal Freeman

The Answer to Your Question is, “We Will Be Doing This Dance Involving Sun and Clouds Again Tomorrow if the good Lord’s willing and my leaky old boat stays afloat. Our time seems… Continue reading