By Joshua Seigal
I don’t like similes.Every time I try to think of onemy brain feels like a vast, empty desert;my eyes…
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- By Ada LimónIs it okay to begin with the obvious? I am full of stones—
is it okay not to look out this window, but… - By Ada LimónI pass the feeder and yell, Grackle party! And then an hour later I yell, Mourning dove afterparty! …
- By John MurilloFor me, the movie starts with a black man
Leaping into an orbit of badges, tiny moons
Catching the … - By Ama Codjoe1.
He had a caribou's face. Once he let me
lick the sadness there. It tasted of salt
and moss-covered… - By Lynn EmanuelLove is boring and passé, all that old baggage,
the bloody bric-a-brac, the bad, the gothic,
retrograde… - By Justin Phillip ReedThere it goes, thin thing,
cheshiring between trees
whose reaper-robes trail
their trains deep underground… - By H.D.Over and back,
the long waves crawl
and track the sand with foam;
night darkens and the sea
takes on… - By Aria AberOver Skype, I try to document my mother’s
bald-shaved youth—she has a surplus in truths,
and science… - By Reginald Dwayne Betts[An Outline for a Film]
A woman leans against a man who leans
against a brick wall watching cars stop… - By Tom Andrews1.
Day brings a steady
hand, a sure breath every other day ...
My brother again on the edge of his… - By Richard SikenSomeone wheeled me to the curb. A different friend helped me into a car. We got to the condo and managed…
- By Natalie ShaperoGod come on stop cutting me
out of your photos God stop dragging
the mouse around my shopworn
body like… - By Kara KrewerUnder which she pruned
the peach trees and a tiny gateway
opened in her spine. That pain
distilled there… - By Genevieve ArlieThe geometer wishes he were David
cut from stone by lightning, his mind
gyring wide into figures of… - By Sean MahoneyI may take offense, may still your tongue
And your fickle ax willowing spastically
During unpredictable… - By John ClareAnd what is Life?—An hour-glass on the run,
A Mist retreating from the morning sun,
A busy, bustling… - By Jane HuffmanI’m sure as wetness
follows steam.
I’m sure as cold
that follows
wetness
follows steam.
I’m sure as … - By Denis JohnsonHere in the electric dusk your naked lover
tips the glass high and the ice cubes fall against her teeth… - By Denis JohnsonThe world will burst like an intestine in the sun,
the dark turn to granite and the granite to a name…