Poetry

  • Arthropoda Californiae

    by Annette Schlichter

    Three weeks after my husband’s cremation
    I cancelled the contract
    with the exterminator.

    Now, I share a home with arthropods.

    They teach me to inhabit
    hollow spaces. Their movements expand

  • Aspens

    by Veronica Golos

    You have to remember the Aspen grove;

    the white stalks of trees, their stuttering leaves–

    the descending quiet. Vesper sparrows.

    No one beside you; no one behind you.

    But you hear …

  • every you, every us

    by Rebecca Siegel

    Think remember map our
     
     
    every you every us every night every darkness
     
     
    lay fear down
    lay in sadness
    carry this acre
    taken from a map

  • Condominium Song #3

    by Michael Shiaw-Tian Liaw

    Steve speaks slowly, and because he is the 
    Housing Association President,
    he also speaks in detail, willing nothing
     
    be missed or wrong. He is old so events
    take on …

  • Lorazepam

    by Louise Mathias

    Our contract was balletic—
    you took from me the rabbits spooked

    inside their still damp nest.
    Then, you were a room

    I lived through entirely. Snowed in
    all the way …

  • on alchemy

    by Rita O’Connell

    Never much good at judging distances
    or my own physical strength, I imagine
    this morning that I could swim across
    the Mississippi, be in Illinois by lunch.

    I can see it …

  • First New Year (Taos, New Mexico)

    by Colette LaBouff

    The mountain I hadn’t met lamented. It was you’re welcome; I’m sorry you don’t belong. It stood, said you don’t fit—sun hitting its middle—but stay. Far off, Gladys …

  • Songs To Make You Feel Safe

    by E.J. Koh

    Grateful for the Poplar Tree (1988)
    Spring is Monolingual (2004)
    Choir for Private People (2010)
    Tranquil Stoneware Exhibit (2018)

    In all songs, time is a vessel.
    They mistranslate vessel, in reality, …