Poetry Magazine
FROM THE CURRENT ISSUE OF
Poetry Magazine
When my love arrived into my life
they brought noise. Their ideas
their laugh, their loud joy. They rumbled
thunder in the
they brought noise. Their ideas
their laugh, their loud joy. They rumbled
thunder in the
distance.
When my love arrived into my life
they brought noise. Their ideas
their laugh, their loud joy. They rumbled
thunder in the
they brought noise. Their ideas
their laugh, their loud joy. They rumbled
thunder in the
distance.
Poem
Letter to Us, YoungerBy Jesse Holth
Poem
WanderlustBy Miguel A. Vega
Poem
Elementary MagicBy Allison Swenson
The hoot of being alive. Name it
whatever you
whatever you
like.
The hoot of being alive. Name it
whatever you
whatever you
like.
Poem
GratitudeBy Patrick Dundon
Poem
Is This My Last Ferry Trip?By Martha Silano
Poem
If Upon Me in My GardenBy francine j. harris
When we go together, what is the simple form we
make?
When we go together, what is the simple form we
make?
Poem
I am asked a question.By Jane Hirshfield
Poem
LaughterBy Rüştü Onur
Translated By Ulaş Özgün & Hüseyin Alhas
Poem
BetweenBy Adam Wolfond
You make the tender parts of me
sing.
You make the tender parts of me
sing.
Poem
The SignalBy C. Dale Young
Poem
LacaoBy Rosabetty Muñoz
Translated By Claudia Nuñez de Ibieta
Poem
Immature AnimalsBy Alafia Nicole Sessions
Recent Features from Poetry
Prose from Poetry Magazine
By Elizabeth AcevedoI was bestowed a gift: I was invited to join a lineage of poets who advocate for poetry by and for young people.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
By Graham FoustIt may be that offishness is a feature of any great poem.
Prose from Poetry Magazine
By Carlie HoffmanOn a years-long endeavor to translate Ausländer’s poems for the first essential selection to be published in the United States.
From the Poetry Magazine Archive
- PoemBy Kimiko HahnWithout the sun filtered through closed eyelids,
without the siren along the service road,
without Grandpa’s ginger-colored hair,
Mother’s lipstick, Daughter’s manicure,
firecrackers, a monkey’s ass, a cherry, Rei’s lost elephant,
without communist or past tense,
or a character seeing her own chopped-off feet dancing... - PoemBy Elizabeth Acevedoit’s the being alone, i think, the emails but not voices. dominicans be funny, the way we love to touch — every greeting a cheek kiss, a shoulder clap, a loud.
it gots to be my period, the bloating, the insurance commercial where... - PoemBy Cortney Lamar CharlestonBy way of my mother, the deacon with the slick gray hair and money
clip in his pocket can claim a percentage of my body like tithe rights.
And on this Sunday, as with every other Sunday, he is a slender
ebony panel...
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History
Poetry was founded in Chicago by Harriet Monroe in 1912.
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