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
Suspect | Poetry
A TSA agent lifts your nursling from your arms. Flagged, he says. Just a baby, you say. The white man behind you navy tie, slightly loosened who’d just been cooing at your little one— fiddles with the cuff of his starched shirt steps around you feeds his briefcase...
burn barrel | Poetry
out country, a modified 55-gallon open head drum is good as a crematoria for burning clean & efficient— make sure to pick a spot downwind, without the secretive boughs & branches of trees draping down. double check for combustibles. remember you are...
“All the Way Over Here” & “Such Curious Fish” | Poetry
All the Way Over Here Yesterday you told me about planes that don’t need engines to fly— gliders, you said, bringing up a picture on your phone—you said imagine how far you could go and I thought imagine how far you might not Sometimes we put our faith in things so...
“Even Assholes Get To Be Anonymous” & “True Crime in Trees” | Poetry
Even Assholes Get To Be Anonymous You hit a bottom — what they say it takes to know you’re not okay. Find a program, two initials; last one is A. To make the circle round this room, brand new, goddamn nervous, too, stripper at a church — not there to pray. To find...
Hummingbirds | Poetry
When my father was eighty years old and mellowing, he decided to win the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. Since he was well-off financially, he said, “If I win the ten million dollars, I’ll give it to you son, and your family will be set for life.” Of course, I...
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