Blogs
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National Poetry Month: Mark Leidner
I found a chest / that contained an important upgrade // that let me absorb more damage / going forward,
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Voices on Addiction: The Shape of Memory
He smelled of faint traces of acetone and the lemon hand soap he always used. He smelled like home.
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National Poetry Month: Soleil Davíd
I learn to fear / what might have happened if they had meant // to maul me, which is to say I don’t think enough / about death,
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National Poetry Month: Harmony Holiday
She threatens to love them like this forever in pieces flabby patchwork of his lost sheet music
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National Poetry Month: Mathias Svalina
So let’s collect our birthed things, no matter / how small or useless, & store them on museum / shelves.
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National Poetry Month: Arda Collins
He was asking me / to read his mind / and smell him, acquire memories / with him / that would float through my life with me.
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The Wildness of Grief: Sarah Giragosian’s Mother Octopus
…mothering is entwined with dying throughout this wide-ranging volume, as birth and death are revealed as two sides of one leaf.
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National Poetry Month: Sanam Sheriff
Come morning, a blankness— / what was once the sky and is now / an answer.
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National Poetry Month: Brandon Som
The / hibiscus out my window now blooms the bright / tongue & lips of the Rolling Stones car-freshener / hanging from the rearview mirror of my tío’s / Chevy.
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National Poetry Month: Hayan Charara
And the numbers—the numbers / I see every morning—not birds / but people! people!—
