Poetry
Selected Poetry
Diorama 1871 (Head Resting Against a Lace Antimacassar)
I don't get to be the same person each time, but still, think of all the atrocities I've climbed out of. It helps to carry a rope. I sound ominous but what I'm saying ...
Super Bloom
America, like a monstrous sow vomiting cars and appliances into a green ooze resembling dollar bills, where is my America? Agnostic and uninsured, I eat celery, onions, and ...
Golden
Everything will be fine, to paraphrase the anchoress, and everything will be golden, like a crock of manuka honey or hand-picked Bartlett pear, or like the ...
Dream with Gun and Five-Year-Old Daughter
Hours before the divorce was final, the day the divorce became final, I woke, knowing the dream I had just dreamt could not be touched, the dream in which my daughter took the ...
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Poetry
Sabbatical
Eduardo C. Corral
Poetry
Olive Oil Cake and a Raspberry
Taneum Bambrick
It’s Wednesday night in California. We sit on metal chairs, which shriek like helicopter blades clattering across the cement of a repurposed parking ...
Poetry
College
Monica Sok
She senses that I’m surviving so she doesn’t want to bother me. When she calls me, I whisper, I’m in the library, and we don’t talk for days. It’s my fault that I forget ...
Poetry
The Robbery
Natalie Eilbert
The story goes the man waited until the customers cleared the bank before robbing it. He hoped to be caught, because he struggled with his health and needed health ...
Poetry
Diasporic
Michael Prior
Like Boccaccio’s idle rich, we tell ourselves stories to avoid admitting we can’t go back. The islands in my mind, vaster than this island on a ...
Poetry
Sacro Bosco
Megan Fernandes
After you left, I put on the Pixies, lit a cigarette and looked out at the rain on the slate rooftops of Lazio, grey, riddled with satellites and slanted, orange ...
Poetry
My Doctor Warns Me Against Travel Abroad or What Is a Dream to Me
Camille Rankine
To grieve an American grief a delicate feeling: from afar wistful and brief To grow soft on the milk ...
Poetry
The Space Where I Make a Life Is a Rented Room
Cathy Linh Che
I retrofitted a shelter. Burned driftwood. Drove a gash across the country, slept in the car, dreaming, of you. I was in love and erasing the ...
