National Poetry Month: Day 24. “Superhero” by Kelly Norman Ellis
Superhero Lasyrenn’s hair like a rope my locks are the new golden lasso, I am Oya rocking hurricanes.
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National Poetry Month
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National Poetry Month: Day 23. “Xanthic the Day, Cyanic the Day” by Matthew Hittinger
Xanthic the Day, Cyanic the Day Fulgent the day teeters between dried leaf bits and a heat reminiscent of summer. The tractor kicks up dust,
National Poetry Month: Day 22. “Guaranteed to Work Throughout Its Useful Life” by Steven D. Schroeder
Guaranteed to Work Throughout Its Useful Life Okay, leverage it in an awesome way. 1. Open the onboarding manual, even if your paradigm shift is mission-critical. 2. Matrix memo: you…
National Poetry Month: Day 21. “Questions for the Quest” by Reb Livingston
Questions for the Quest Zirconza of the Blest Flare wanted her someday sometime soon. How was she—with those flinty fingers—supposed to feed those slippy fishes? That was the first question.
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.
National Poetry Month: Day 19. “Boulder” by Sidney Wade
Boulder this world is full of beautiful surprises
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
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…
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
National Poetry Month: Day 15. “Stonecrop” by Don Share
Stonecrop In the crop of stone, your ink was ripe.
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…
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.