Poetry
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From “Crow’s Eye View”
Poem 1 13 children book it down the road.(a dead-end alley will do.) the 1st child says, scary.the 2nd child also says, scary.the 3rd child also says, scary.the 4th child also says, scary.the 5th child also says, scary.the 6th child…
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
Loyalty Oath Let evening winds carry a tsunami of scents to her sleep, and let him with a smile like a paperweight and a craggy face of bark find his way, let the back door of the flower truck passing…
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National Poetry Month: From Of Pearl (a manuscript-in-progress)
Author’s Note: I am currently in the early stages of writing a book-length poem, Of Pearl. The book will take the form of several monologues, which intersect visually on the page and, at times, interact. One of the central voices…
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National Poetry Month: birdBlack
when the sky rained blood i stood at attention. i looked the horizon in its long goat eye. i said there was a time before the air.
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
The okra, right now, all heart, is putting on its flowers underneath her voice, which, I swear, makes the trees stop growing for however many seconds she decides to talk about how the phone lines used to be connected, and…
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National Poetry Month: Loud Lord
The future an accordion of paper dolls, countless wraps made with the same variety of deli meats. Meat dolls,paper dolls. Who is the accountant of these meals, these paltry wishes exchanged over hoppy small batch beers secretly owned by global…
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
It really is a lovely and clarifying tradition I participate in, having eyes and skin. It makes green the tree and darkens the walk. I am unruly at thinking, looking down a street or I gasp, seeing a wasp near…
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National Poetry Month: Quick Response
could not know your dazzle in all its power a brilliance from inside that dark center otherwise stark gaze gleams
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National Poetry Month: Two Poems
Only my shadow is real: upon its shoal, waves bend and break. No need to write an argument for shade –
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National Poetry Month: “DRAB AS A F OOL, AS A LOOF AS A BARD”
Don’t nod, borrow or rob. Live not on evil,
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National Poetry Month: Magdalena
Magdalena was shaping small pools of water in pockets of stone. A bare-faced ibis sounded his quintuplet alarm when you turned to me to say you’d stopped the medications one month ago. The head pain, back pain, tremors, the cytomegalovirus—too…
