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

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

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...
Hummingbirds | Poetry

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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