Two Poems by Claire/Spike Dougherty

Poetry

Does Billy know and does Billy know what it looks like? Do you know Billy? Do you know, Billy? If it’s only me and Billy in a room, does she care if she sees? Did you expect Billy to be a he? Is he a man? Can he dilate?

Two Poems by Hannah Jove

Poetry

I just need someone to be able to love me for at least a decade, one humid and symmetrical decade, until they look at me one day over breakfast and see the empty quarry that I have never once stopped cutting slate from.

Diagram Poems by Jessy Randall

Multimedia, Poetry

Source for illustrations:Source for illustrations: William Austin Cannon. The Root Habits of Desert Plants. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institute, 1911. William Austin Cannon. The Root Habits of Desert Plants. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institute, 1911.

Trafika Europe Corner by Andrew Singer Featuring Adrian Opriou

Poetry, Trafika Europe Corner

I am now trying to write about all this but words are never enough to describe the loss of words. The words of my own language had become objects already then, the words of the other language are objects too, maybe even more gnarled and barbed. Every day they must be brought from a storage room under your house, where they lie dusty and crammed like appliances and bicycle wheels; then you must carry them up on your back and carefully arrange them, so that simultaneously with the text you also build the walls of the house, so that you have a bed to sleep in, a cup in which to pour the coffee.

Jon-Michael Frank’s “Diana Ross & The Supremes”

Multimedia, Poetry

I remember hearing those songs for the first time again and finding them so complicated and painful. They use longing almost as a vital sign, which makes me think of Joseph Joubert saying, “the punishment of those who have loved women too much is to love them forever.”

Russian Optimism

Poetry

From mom’s bedroom,
/ A crooked legged cripple/ 
Emerged. It was dad.../ I walk the same way! 
Our gene pool is bad.

Three Poems by Todd Colby

Poetry

You’re exhausted. You tell me you’re/ exhausted, so you should sleep;/ and not worry that I'll write on/ your face with a Sharpie,

“Tension Sketches,” Poems by Mathew Johnstone

Poetry

Kept, trails, of gun / undistracted / Lined alteration’s figment / we cut the tree / to / move it, image / damp When thing is many / arrays / have not understood / Translator, diminish over them / left to meant to us / scratched, illness, the absence of / turning into thing / is the mountain eats men...
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The Indiscrete Tarot by Candice Wuehle

Poetry

Another savory feeling in my mouth. Starless solstice morning. My dad Drops me At high school And I’m alone Again. It’s a snow day. I don’t care. I go to the dark room. I love the empty Gymnasium, journalism room. It’s ok. The janitor is also here and he has a set of keys and will give me access If...
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Three Poems by Amy Wright

Poetry

Insect Time Consult a termite queen before she scratches off her nuptial flight wings and after, when she sweats fat inside her earthen capsule where she once nestled with her king, nymphs in love with solitude. Who counts seconds when every third she lays another egg of a quarter billion? She grows translucent. Colony-whirr fills the cathedral mound above...
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“Marilyn” by Jared Joseph

Poetry

I’m very serious about the problem of knowledge it is so very deeply Shakespeare being among them then the problem of knowledge is real a sense of reality that’s a meaningful i think us in a constellation a diverting portrait of language a deep elusiveness in reality i will put up my microphone but before i go...
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Two Poems by Jeff Streeby

Poetry

Along the North Platte Every man bears the whole stamp of the human condition. –Michel de Montaigne The Prairie Traveler. From Kanesville to Fort Kearney then up the Platte, then along the North Platte and across the fords, then along the Sweetwater. From there to South Pass City. From there to Fort Bridger. There, a decision—Oregon, California, or Salt...
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Poems by Christie Towers and a Drawing by Jen May!

Poetry

Sweep we are driving through the last sweep of summer, the sun sifted through a fray of corn, the field repeating itself like a stutter between telephone poles, stark stalks framed by birdfalls of slack, black wire. Gravity the sky’s heavy hand dusted with powdered bone. an incremental heft, a pile of sand, a mouthful of salt, a...
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Three Poems by Bremer Acosta

Poetry

a story hardly remembered  snow cracked under my boots once, I remember, – when was it? ’88 or ‘98 my cheeks paled to numbing, tingling, hairs encrusted under redwood breezes, I – or was it we – we saw a car, metallic, diesel guts spilled on a snow bed, rotten, roots wetted around its frame, spiraling – ice melted on...
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Two Poems by Douglas Luman

Poetry

These poems were composed using text from the Log Cabin Democrat (the local newspaper of Conway, Arkansas) during the Found Poetry Review’s “Oulipost” project during National Poetry Month, 2014. Almanac Since summer is in a series, six versions means scarce corn, rice, onions. Assume news a noose, warriors in core warren. A noon iris swims summer season, mesa severe. Now is never once,...
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Two Poems by Jim Davis

Poetry

Stargazer Those who’ve been out in the yard for the sole purpose of looking at stars will be rewarded by smells of jungle, oatmeal, baking chocolate and the not-supposed-to-be-good-but-is aroma of a distant skunk. Water cascading over anything is as much abstraction as it is the whetting lens of life. Loamy soil for the stargazer lily, aimed up. Shallow water...
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Two Poems by Jared Joseph

Poetry

Beheading Video Sets Off Debate Forgive him soon because he has soon remorsefulness.  Or don’t.  Under the spring earth there are nails.  They hold together the gum drops in the bear’s chest.  The stuffed bear whose bladder is full.  The bougainvilleas are bushes and so it has always been.  The ashes on my hand are from the cigarette end...
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“Kosciusko Revisited/Cemeteries Creep” Video and Haiku by Donnie Boman

Poetry

http://youtu.be/iwNCANSqCmk Cemeteries creep. New Calvary is the best. BQE onramp. Rainbow Bridge is where we go to meet our lost pets. Happiness supreme. Kosciusko Bridge. Abomination of space. A desecration. Driving beside death. The cemetery beckons. Just over the wall. A white van passed me. Vehicles for kidnappers. Scary. No windows. A small red Honda. Carrying bikes and surfboards. Where...
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Slides (Interpreted by Nancy) by Nancy Kangas

Slides (Interpreted by Nancy)

Stay scared. Who’s armed, who’s not. Whose suit is red. Whose lips are made so. Whose come like that from blood inside. One chickenpock. Two chickenpox. Three. Thirteen. Forty-seven. Nota bene: This happened. Is happening. Not for shame, but for the ship’s log do we document. And of course to honor the force of poxes. For...
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Two Poems by Timothy McLafferty

Poetry

Still Life She plays guitar as the rain falls acoustic to the cadence on the fig and juniper to the fragrant earth and quiet of our rooms she plays guitar as it rains and she stops before the rain stops. Madame Redon Willow black and soaked you fold inward still eyelids no less lovely for the star-fields they...
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Two poems by Kallie Falandays

Poetry

Sometimes We Build Small Ships and we put them in our pocket and we hope they sail us somewhere sunshine. Sometimes we build ourselves large oceans and we pray that they will take us somewhere warm hearted. Sometimes we carry on our backs big metal swings and sometimes we rust when it rains. Most times we eat at regular-sized tables...
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