Poems from In the Right Season by Diane Sher Lutovich
It’s About Time Today I want to invite the dead in, show them to a well-padded chair, offer a cup of chamomile tea, finally ready to listen to them talk about pain, narrowing of the spirit. When they were dying, each of my joints was a well-lubed machine part, stomach ready for chocolate malts, stuffed…Read More
Poems from Again by Lynne Knight
Prologue While we slept, such heavy rain swept past it shook the last roses loose. They lay smashed on the deck this morning, their petals scattered like big white tears. I shouldn’t say a thing so sentimental. But there they were. And you, my father, so long dead, why should I not expect you to…Read More
Poems from Snake at the Wrist by Margaret Kaufman
Tree of Life, a Triptych I. The tree, its branches laden one of them propped with a forked pole to support the weight of nectarines. Rising from ice plant on the slope, a mist of fruit flies. II. Small devotional: in a pool of rotting fruit quail devour the windfall. III. A woman carries…Read More
Poems from Inheritance by Margaret Kaufman
Photo, Brownie Troop, St. Louis, 1949 (After Larry Levis) I’m going to put Karen Prasse right here in front of you on this page so that you won’t mistake her for something else, an example of precocity, for instance, a girl who knew that the sky (blue crayon) was above the earth (green crayon) and…Read More
Poems from The Stranger Dissolves by Christina Hutchins
The Poet to Her Poem Make of my elbows small pebbles rolling the river bottom, a fierce and pummeling sweep. If you will, build of my limbs and trunk the supple breast and weight of the water. Of my hands, eels, my ears twin leeches sucking sound, already these feet are two swift fish flicking…Read More
Poems from Space/Gap/Interval/Distance by Judy Halebsky
A Breaking Word There’s that part after Basho writes old still pond of pressing a fingerprint into wet clay where the word ya holds a space in the air a cloud changes shape in the sky make it a dash, a murmur a breath on the inhale this old pond so many have tried to…Read More
Poems from All night in the new country by Miriam Bird Greenberg
Elegy Early on in the city on weekends claimed by fog I came back to your farmstead, your emptied creekside shanty-house from my laboratory wage work with pockets full of micropipettes and stolen white gloves as if to outfit a regiment of ghost-butlers in an imagined antebellum manor neither of us, if offered, would…Read More
Poems from Plagios/Plagiarisms (Volume One) by Ulalume González de Leόn
VOCES El viento y las palabras no escarmientan: siempre desenterrando caracoles donde estrenar su viejo asunto. A sí mismos se plagian. VOICES Wind and words don’t learn their lesson: always digging up shells where old affairs make their debut. They plagiarize themselves. PALABRA Pronunciada palabra tán sola tán desnuda: regrésate a vestirte…Read More