Tag Archives: poetry

Anna, Whose Last Name Is Covered In Lichens, 1851–1920, poem by Matt Prater

And I was there as well, I saw. My hands, too, went out and made the world. I did not only imag­ine the sol­diers, I touched them. I soothed, with cool rags, the dying John­ny sol­dier; I soothed, with cool … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Kentucky Sonnet, poem by Chris Prewitt

Down past the moon­lit bell tow­er Down past the road that ends at a moun­tain I come to know my body pre­pared to lose every­thing Father if I wore your blue suit to your funer­al I don’t remem­ber I met … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Poems by Jessie Janeshek

Coun­try Music Yard’s bald of flood. Rain botch­es the night pours through Steve McQueen’s tomb, Ten­nessee lou­vers. I try to decide this tight vow, your part­ing since I can’t for­get the look in his eyes when we fucked read­ing Niet­zsche. … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Poetry by John Brantingham

A Mem­o­ry of Smoke Today, these moun­tains are full of the smoke com­ing off of the sum­mer foothills, sum­mer being the moment of fire in Cal­i­for­nia, and we who were trained about the hor­ror of for­est fire by Smokey Bear … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Poems by Daniel Crocker

City of Bones the worst thing we've ever seen Robert Bow­cock, envi­ron­men­tal inves­ti­ga­tor and col­league of Erin Brock­ovich (speak­ing of Lead­wood, Mis­souri) I. The bones bro­ken bleached cages just down the street the new weeds grow a strange green The … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Sestina for a Powder, poetry by Joshua Michael Stewart

She’s lis­ten­ing to the clock—the heart­beat that mocks the blood that pumps inside this house. She clicks her tongue in time with the sound that knocks against walls, and mim­ics heel-to-toe boots on red­wood floors. There’re knick­knacks to dust and … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Retrieve, poetry by Michelle Askin

How did you ever think you would jus­ti­fy any­thing as good, after aban­don­ing her for sweet prayer in a stone fruit orchard or won­der­ful deed saints you held in the know­ing? How about your holy hand to try art: cup­ping chopped … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Newbie Down Undah, poetry by Dennis Mahagin

After the Nar­cotics Anony­mous meet­ing, they stopped to chat under a maple tree in the park­ing lot; she said to him "so… you wan­na get cof­fee at the IHOP, hon?" He replied "awwww … some place, yeah, but real­ly, any­where, … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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