a good woman would never
By Sylvia Beatofor years you told no one
how you cried yourself to sleep
after the doctor held your hand
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Sylvia Beatofor years you told no one
how you cried yourself to sleep
after the doctor held your hand
By Christopher SotoI’m his // retired slut // on food stamps // forever
Sniffing horse tranquilizer // seeing digital dreams
Like a kitten // with eyes sewn shut // like syzygy
By Esther LinAfter learning his appointment was canceled
and his senior bus won’t come for another two
hours my father calls from his waiting room
By Wo ChanShe closed the doors
and then the blinds
and then her face, midday.
By Ellen KombiyilWe are on the plane now
crossing ocean. The pressurized
air is sweet not stale never
stale, the cabin set for
By Purvi ShahUnder sky massaged by sun, from a comfortable chair, I watch
the rain stroke a myrtle tree. Naked
rain, my father says. Naked,
By Aracelis GirmayYou, selling roses out of a silver grocery cart
You, in the park, feeding the pigeons
You cheering for the bees
You with cats in your voice in the morning, feeding cats
By Samantha ThornhillGive thanks to your mansion
of a mama in that cold square room
the push and pull
of breath that brought
By Aracelis GirmayAracelis Girmay performs an excerpt from the book "The Black Maria" at the 2016 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Jeanann VerleeI finish a small hot plate of grease & salt, & push the scraped-clean plate across the counter for someone else to scrub / this, I say I have paid for but it doesn't fit