Weathering

by Shilpa Kamat

Cyclones are better than wildfires, than
smoke that blows hundreds of miles to
thicken the air. In the East Bay, high
levels of particulate matter from our
regular winter pollution …

Coventry Street, Detroit

by Petra Kuppers

(The black mold fungus Stachybotrys chartarum was originally discovered on the wall of a house in Prague in 1837. The average person inhales at least 40 conidia (fungus …

I Shamed the Valleys That Wanted To Eat Me

by Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto

I don’t want to wait till the moment of my dying
to realize what I have ignored all my life.
I want you to climb me. Climb me because I …

Cityscape With Dysthymia

Despy Boutris Wins a 2023 Zócalo Poetry Prize Honorable Mention Award

by Despy Boutris

Every year, we award the annual Zócalo Poetry Prize to the poem that best evokes a connection to place. Zócalo is pleased to recognize …

Trying to Explain What Knafeh Is

Andrew Calis Wins a 2023 Zócalo Poetry Prize Honorable Mention Award

by Andrew Calis

Every year, we award the annual Zócalo Poetry Prize to the poem that best evokes a connection to place. Zócalo is pleased to recognize …

We were born

Eleanor Stanford Wins a 2023 Zócalo Poetry Prize Honorable Mention Award

by Eleanor Stanford

Every year, we award the annual Zócalo Poetry Prize to the poem that best evokes a connection to place. Zócalo is pleased to recognize …

As the Fog Starts Burning Away

Brent Ameneyro Wins a 2023 Zócalo Poetry Prize Honorable Mention Award

by Brent Ameneyro

Every year, we award the annual Zócalo Poetry Prize to the poem that best evokes a connection to place. Zócalo is pleased to recognize …

a god

by Nidaa Khoury, translated by Lily Shehady

Once there was a god who opened his mouth,
parted his forehead and widened his lips
the whole world opened. The upper lip was the horizon,
and the waterline, walking …

The Death of Noah

by Yoni Hammer-Kossoy

Grace After Meals

by Maya Tevet Dayan, translated by Jane Medved

My father stands over the pots
in my house, baking sweet potatoes,
giving me back the taste
of a world where mothers still exist.

His hands slice thin answers
to my …

Kanafeh

by Iman Jaml Arbasy

I am alone, sitting in a restaurant in Jerusalem.
I order a Kanafeh for me and my friend—
who never arrives. The waiter makes a noise when
he puts the …

1. Opening, from The Burden of Nisan

by Shimon Adaf, translated by Becka Mara McKay

The poem carried her
through time

she lay reading on the balcony
on a sun-wombed border

a chrysanthemum ignited
the garden’s actuality
a well of gravity

birdsong harpooned the air

even her mother was …