The International Fruit of Welcome
By Kim RobertsKim Roberts performs the poem "The International Fruit of Welcome" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
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PROTANDRIC
By Kim RobertsOysters may look to us
like wet floppy tongues,
but there’s no licking.
There’s no touching.
Zyklon B
By Julie EnszerThe painters call before we move into the new house. Ma’am, they say—
I am not old enough to be a ma’am, but I don’t correct them—
Ma’am, they say, we smell gas.
I dismiss their concern. I say, Keep painting.
The Strap-on Speaks
By Kendra DeColoIt is easy to believe
we are separate entities,
you and I
as I wait, a fish in the chasm
Postmark from the Transition
By Rachel M. Simonthe name altered from parent's choosing
the threshold of a home
white gloves on the windowsill
Portrait of Hippocrates, or Buqrat
By Kim RobertsO augury seeker,
know and be aware...
In the book of divination,
Can Safety Matches Make Us Safe?
By Judith ArcanaYou read the tiny cardboard book before
you scratch the strip under Augie's New Pizza
on the back of MIA:We still don't know
Suspension of Disbelief
By Jane SeitelI wake into yet another day of doubt
creeping in as ants through a warped doorjamb.
The morning news brings new atrocities
The Day Obama Decided
By Margit BermanThe day Obama decided enough was enough
and turned off his TV and slept well for the first time since 2007,
and Nancy Pelosi decided enough was enough
IUDs
By Kim RobertsWheels, whisks, wishbones,
silhouette of a tiny pine.
Birds in flight and fiddlehead ferns.