Anchorage
By Joy HarjoThis city is made of stone, of blood, and fish.
There are Chugatch Mountains to the east
and whale and seal to the west.
Search Results
All the Trees of the Field Shall Clap Their Hands
By Eduardo C. CorralAre the knees & elbows
the first knots
the dead untie?
from Don’t Let Me Be Lonely
By Claudia RankineMahalia Jackson is a genius. Or Mahalia Jackson has genius. The man I am with is trying to make a distinction. I am uncomfortable with his need to make this distinction because his inquiry begins to approach subtle shades of racism, classism, or sexism. It is hard to know which.
Nexus
By Brenda CárdenasThis body always compost--
hair a plot of thin green stems
snowing a shroud of petals,
Eighteenth Century Remains
By Tess TaylorThe ridge a half mile down from Monticello.
A pit cut deeper than the plow line.
Archaeologists plot the dig by scanning
Single Twin Band Crush
By celeste doaksAaron and Anita, the first real twins I ever personally knew,
drum majored our ragged band in high school called--
the Marching LaSalle Lions. Anita was the outgoing,
The 8th of May: A Vow
By Daniel Nathan TerryThere are oaks that remember
what we would forget--the burn of the rope,
how a body takes on more weight
Thanks
By Yusef KomunyakaaThanks for the tree
between me & a sniper's bullet.
I don't know what made the grass
Infinite Regress of War
By Myra SklarewIn the mirror of infinite regress
go back. Go back to Vietnam. To a man
who can spot a trip wire fine as a hair,
Zombie Blues Villanelle
By Tim SeiblesThere are days I believe there ain' nothing to fear
I perk up for green lights, my engine on call
But it could be the zombies are already near