Poetry

  • So Long, 2011

    One Could Do Worse—Than Set the Year That Was To Verse

    by Sarah Rothbard

    We’re closing the books on 2011 at Zócalo,

    So a year-end poem seemed apropos.
    We might have gone Roger-Angell-style,
    Marching the year’s guests in single file,
    Rhyming Steven Brill and Brad …

  • Calendar

    by Marc Malandra

    Why are our lives so full of things

    that didn’t happen? We carry
    phantom luggage of journeys
    we never took, leave futures
    packaged behind us in the past,
    awkward gifts we …

  • Bright Morning

    by Chris Davidson

    Bright morning wakes me through

    A drapeless window. Away from kids

    And wife for the weekend, the bed
    Is quiet, the room unpressurized,

    The house airy. I miss my life
    As it is …

  • Agave Maria

    by Barbara Cully

    Where birds

    listen intently
    a garden gate stands amid a plain triganomaly.

    the oldest living life forms are chaparral

    Note the house the agave Americana lives next to
    stands two stories high, …

  • On the third Wednesday in ordinary time

    by Barbara Cully

    Half a woman, really, off a balcony

    in the early December of another hemisphere.

    Danced or frozen

    amid a well-placed healthy skepticism:

    The letter “P”

    Where birds listen intently, [how dry it is].

    Where spines, hair, …

  • Freelance Destiny

    by Amy Holman

    Cloudbase to air

    she jets, textile heiress
    with guns–in memoire. Where
    cloud burst, to air
    she streamed in guerre
    a Mysteron. Exiled, rare is
    Cloudbase. To err,
    she jets and texts. …

  • Orchids

    by Diane Lockward

    They are hot and moist in operation, under the

             dominion of Venus, and provoke lust exceedingly.
    –The British Herbal Guide, 1653

    Such flowers must be used with …

  • Howard

    by Aaron Belz

    Howard

    Where there is a Howard, there is a

    Howard

    How is the ard of Howard. Now, take two Howards and blend them
    Into a large sugar bunny. What you will find is …

  • A Canticle With Dashes of Remorse

    by Henry Israeli

    The mother in the movie Mother would kill for her son.

    Not so my mother, who, if anything went wrong,
    laid blame squarely on me. If a kid hit me,

  • American Water

    by David Hernandez

    They didn’t trust the other country’s water,

    the crystal ropes uncoiling from the faucets,

    so they brought their own in plastic bottles
    that vibrated on the cargo plane-cases

    mounted on cases mounted on …

  • The Body You’re Suited-up In

    by David Hernandez

    The night peels the sun like an orange,

    swallows it wedge by wedge. Come dawn,
    the sun will rise again for you, bronze

    and blazing. You take this for granted,
    and this …