Poems
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National Poetry Month: Day 20. “Something In the Water” by Alison Pelegrin
Something in the Water Verboten, casual, Katrina-slash-this-is-the-writer’s-life poem, another rule breaker best abandoned. At sea. Overboard in a wine bottle, in a milk jug float.
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National Poetry Month: Day 19. “Boulder” by Sidney Wade
Boulder this world is full of beautiful surprises
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National Poetry Month: Day 18. “Things Unso” by Seth Abramson
Things Unso If the wind takes the house it will be someone else’s soon enough, and they too
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National Poetry Month: Day 17. “English Sonnet” by Dan Albergotti
English Sonnet As an illustration of the need for spelling reform in English, someone (apparently not, as often attributed, George Bernard Shaw) pointed out that—taking the pronunciation of the letters from “rough,” “women,” and “ambition”—a word spelled “ghoti” could be…
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National Poetry Month: Day 16. “The Blue” by Camille Dungy
The Blue One will live to see the Caterpillar rut everything they walk on—seacliff buckwheat cleared, relentless ice plant to replace it, the wild fields bisected
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National Poetry Month: Day 15. “Stonecrop” by Don Share
Stonecrop In the crop of stone, your ink was ripe.
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National Poetry Month: Day 14. “My Father Finally Says Out Loud the Word I’ve Only Heard Him Think” by Stacey Lynn Brown
My Father Finally Says Out Loud the Word I’ve Only Heard Him Think Calling it a rehab center doesn’t change this nursing home, doesn’t daub dry the drool or bring the unfocused wheelchair bound back
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National Poetry Month: Day 13. “Epilogue” by Ben Mazer
Epilogue It is youth that understands old age and your repulsion is but a projection an image of the loathing you obtain.
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National Poetry Month: Day 12. “An Excursion” by Mary Biddinger
An Excursion I wrote your name backwards on my hand until it hurt.
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National Poetry Month: Day 11. “Schematic” by T. R. Hummer
Schematic Inside the machine is another machine which refers to the machine enclosing it. So he touches her hand, and the image of a child emerges.
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National Poetry Month: Day 10. “Gulls at Todd’s Point” by Annie Finch
Gulls at Todd’s Point Shivering, knowing how lines of the tide use seaweed, and sea-drift, and sea-touch (and bone) to etch with, I wait to be marked on the sand