The onion is frost closed and poor. Frost of your days and my nights. Hunger and onion, black ice and frost, big and round. My child was in a cradle of hunger. He nursed on onion blood. But your blood, frosted with sugar, onion and hunger. Dissolved into moon, a dark woman pours thread by […]
Poetry 69
George Murray: The Dust
Regardless, the trees will still stretch out from their wrinkled sleep, will hang a canopy of limp hands. Look down that quiet lane where the branches make an arch, and say what you see: far enough down, any road becomes a street, or ends in the wild. The fireflies are being mistaken for stars again […]
Jen Knox: Feelings of Sadness and Beauty by a Lake with Horses
I. According to this month’s bill from Sallie Mae Services, I owe $30,000 on the student loans For my Master of Fine Arts Degree In poetry writing. In order to pay this debt off before I die, I could write 3,000 poems And sell them for 10 bucks a pop. Or I could write 300 […]
Katy Hawkins: Alchemy Girl
I’m watching Jamie watching blue on a Tuesday in the Musée Picasso Her head is cocked like she’s sorry for him And I want to smack that disenchanted pout off her head till it straightens out her head with the perfect little freckles shaken like salt from the brown doe eyes shaken like salt like […]
Oliver de la Paz: My Dearest Conflict
My Dearest Conflict, l Urged, I chose to celebrate the body with rocks and stilettos. I’ve hollowed the tips of my bullets. I’ve poisoned the mouthwash. Look at these hands—at the heart, they’re contemplating God. God, they think, can drop a branch without warning. Spare me your sympathy, dearest. Spare me the discretion of an […]
Shanna Compton: A White House
It is not accurate. It has the best kind of author: anonymous. Its proportions are unperfected. Its best features are accidents. It glows. It is white. It squints through too-small windows. It floats slightly above its plot. Its plot is too green and grounds dwarfish trees. Its roof is shingled black. Minute crosses interrupt its […]