Poems
“I read the line over and over / as if I might discern / the little fires set / the flames of an idea licking the page”
“Illumination,” Natasha Trethewey
Fruiting Body | Poetry
Fruiting Body Sometimes I imagine my body fodder for damp gardens, sunken in the permanent earth. I am not dead weight for trees. Sometimes a carcass is just a carcass. But the soft underside of every alive thing is an offering. Tender bellies up in surrender, supple...
These Stretchmarks | Poetry
These Stretchmarks These stretchmarks drink a full glass of water before bed, they want to stand up and stand out in the morning, tired of dimming their light to avoid attention. These stretchmarks don’t pretend, they leave red marks when you want to subtract...
If God Permitted Pirates on the Mississippi | Poetry
If God Permitted Pirates on the Mississippi A poah man leans on his plow to rest in the Delta swelter, As his mule lies by the bank, Dipping its head in the muddy sweet. The flood had receded, And what was left for poah whites and poah blacks Was merely lowland labor....
Black: | Poetry
Editor’s note: due to its special line-spacing, this poem has been published as an image. For optimal viewing, we recommend reading on a computer or tablet screen. A graduate of Howard University, Carmin Wong is a Guyanese-born poet, playwright, and scholar of...
Two Poems | Poetry
Letting what you held slip back into the water There is an art to everything. To letting the line drag out, to the extra moment given before the hook is set. To how one learns, eventually, to watch the light and not indulge the urge to name it. Eventually I will get...Follow Us
