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.
Search Results
Being Called a Faggot While Walking the Road to Clemson, South Carolina
By D. GilsonThe honeysuckle dew slick
& sweet this morning
& only an empty Wendy's cup
thrown to ditch
Hikmet: Çankiri Prison, 1938
By Joshua WeinerToday is Sunday.
Today, for the first time, they let me go out into the sun.
And I stood there I didn't move,
struck for the first time, the very first time ever:
First Morning Poem
By Allison Adelle Hedge CokeIn a room facing chimneys
over the place Nancy Morejón rests
between sleeps lining free lines
she whispers to hearing DC:
Black Site
By Jody BolzFirst, take away light.
Leave time—but make it dark,
disordered. Make it sleepless.
Not day, not night.
Dorothy Wordsworth
By Jennifer ChangThe daffodils can go fuck themselves.
I’m tired of their crowds, yellow rantings
about the spastic sun that shines and shines
and shines. How are they any different
2008, XII
By Wendell BerryWe forget the land we stand on
and live from. We set ourselves
free in an economy founded
on nothing, on greed verified
Test for Cognitive Function
By Hermine PinsonMother
Slipper
July
“ I will ask you to recall these words
at the end of our session”
Temple
By Rayna MomenUnprotected sex is a woman in America.
Unprotected sex is a woman in the world.
My body is my temple and will always be
it is not some place where you go to pray