March 2012
27 posts
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“the bitter memory / Of what he was, what is, and what must be”
...
– Erica Kaufman, INSTANT CLASSIC: a[tone]meant [I.]
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where
you had only
to touch me
other had
to present a history
a...
– Diane Wakoski, To Celebrate My Body
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At the pet store on Court Street,
I search for the perfect fish.
The black...
– Stacie Cassarino, Goldfish Are Ordinary
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My head is wet
My head is wet
Something
Something
I forget
I did not want...
– Ursula K. Le Guin, The Drowned Girl
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In the woods, one fair Sunday,
When we were children,
We came upon a couple...
– Charles Simic, The Lovers
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My brother enlisted
in the winter. I pitched
for the sixth grade Indians
and...
– Tony Gloeggler, 1969
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There are things sadder
than you and I. Some people
do not even touch.
– Sonia Sanchez, Haiku
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you were not here
I had not heard the voice of this city yet
I used to light...
– Ahmet Uysal, The Glaze of Broken Mirrors Tells Tales trans. Suat Karantay and Yasemin Tuksal
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I know it’s your birthday and I am an hour
late. I didn’t think...
– Gary Margolis, Did You Bring Me Anything
I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father...
– Sharon Olds, I Go Back to May 1937
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Fuck you in slang and conventional English.
Fuck you in lost and neglected...
– Amy Gerstler, Fuck You Poem #45
You tell me about the rickety truck:
your ride in back among goats or...
– Shara McCallum, Jamaica, October 18, 1972
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1.
Nothing ends
every blade of grass
remembering your sound
2.
your sounds...
– Sonia Sanchez, 10 haiku (for Max Roach)
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And though grief
has seemed to me itself a dim,
salt suspension in which I’ve...
– Mark Doty, from “Visitation” (via growing-orbits)
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The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies
between me and my book;
And...
– Amy Lowell, Vernal Equinox
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Without even looking in the album
I realized suddenly, two months later,
you...
– Linda Gregg, Lessening
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I watched a snake once, swallow a rabbit.
Fourth grade, the reptile zoo
the...
– Donna Masini, Slowly
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There is a time after what comes after
being young, and a time after that, he...
– Jack Gilbert, Scheming in the Snow
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Love does not
make me gentle or kind
– Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red (via yesyes)
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Remember me, like a mouth that
opens in the dark. I’ll remember you
like a...
– Josh Bell, from “Surviving Love” (via ahuntersheart)
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my chest is a birdcage
where two canaries perch,
chirp, and preen their...
– Jeanann Verlee, a boy named Never (via aliszoob)
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The morning air is all awash with angels …
...
– Sherman Alexie, Grief calls Us to the Things of this World
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Every effort is made to bring the colonised person to admit
the inferiority...
– Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Confessions: My Father, Hummingbirds, and Franz Fanon
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It is almost three
I sit at the marble top
sorting poems, miserable
the...
– Frank O’Hara, “At Joan’s”