Iraqi-Style Fish Shop, Damascus
By Heather Derr-SmithThe fish are opened up like salad bowls,
Slid between the metal bars of baskets,
Roasted in the wood-fired ovens, Iraqi style.
The flesh glows as if it were made of glass.
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Heather Derr-SmithThe fish are opened up like salad bowls,
Slid between the metal bars of baskets,
Roasted in the wood-fired ovens, Iraqi style.
The flesh glows as if it were made of glass.
By Kyle DarganNaturally, the gun is purchased from a farm in Virginia—pulled from a bushel of barrels
by a tremorous hand, a young man’s. His other fist proffers sweat-wilted dollars. The
farmer, compensated, keeps his gaze down as to remember nothing of the boy’s face.
By Abby Minor1. [July 2013 Millheim, Pennsylvania]
This is how you miscarry on purpose, with pills:
this is how you eat a sack of tattered peonies.
With stippled petals in your mouth, this is how
you set the little sunset-
By Ross GayThere is a puritan in me
the brim of whose
hat is so sharp
it could cut
your tongue out
By Minnie Bruce PrattMinnie Bruce Pratt performs the poem "Burning Water" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Sherwin BitsuiSherwin Bitsui performs the poem "The Northern Sun" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Tim SeiblesTim Seibles performs "One Turn Around the Sun" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Eduardo C. CorralEduardo C. Corral reads "In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Aaron KreuterWe put in at the edge of the tailings pond,
our canoe loaded with gear and food
to take us on the four-day loop trip,
our nylon tent and stainless steel pots.
By L. Lamar WilsonShe ambles about this Mickey-Dee kitchen’s din,
unmoved by the hot grease threatening
her ¿puedo tomar su orden? mask.