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January 1, 2024 |
in Poetry |
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for Jim Harrison 1. The Naming We don’t know what they call each other or even how they communicate. Their tongue might lie in the cycle-sound crickets call or the rise and...
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December 30, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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BEACHED WAIL OF BETRAYAL “…women will reject womanhood itself, if the condition ‘unable to move around freely’, both physically and psychically, is seen necessarily to...
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December 3, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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TO THE LOVER Who was never truly a lover just a rotting corpse A pile of hollowed-out bones looking for a place to lay wounds of war and unspoken desires You made a...
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November 22, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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MEE MA By the time my father is eighteen, my grandmother had been psychiatrically committed five times. My grandfather would pack her in the car – the bags under her eyes...
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August 12, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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Peggy Robles-Alvarado is a tenured New York City educator and award winning poet who inspires triumph and embodies strength. She is a 2021 Jerome Hill Foundation Fellow in Literature, a two...
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August 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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Opening scene. We meet a boy at the grave of a friend after one too many funerals. His stubble is sparse, because 18-year-old facial hair hasn’t turned to the daggers of a man. And...
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July 16, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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I took all the shortcuts—fireexit, hidden stairs, first car closestto the escalator—and minutes later thereyou were under the chocolate lamp at myplace, practicing French,...
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July 8, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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On our worse days We think being human is trash But sometimes the grass wants to be flesh Is not greener on the other side of the fence And the heavens want a human experience Unhappy...
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June 27, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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HOME / MEMORY / HOME — for the women of Ukraine I called my home “Memory” because before I was born ancestral voices...
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March 30, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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CRANING The wings are scoredfeather by featherof nearly weightless wood,and neatly folded one over the other.The student of art in Kinshasaput her name in capitals underneath.Mbantshi.I...
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January 12, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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I will keep holding my breath, counting the slow pauses between when my mother’s gentle feetbend low in the morning, to when the bed holds the warmth of her body that once rested there....
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January 12, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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Better than immigrant recipes because tastes lose their tribe. In this neighborhood few buy lard— heartstopper, scale-breaker— preferring the viscous, the transparent, cakes...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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All light of yesterday in this place is now hidden. It could be the ground heating my feet or it could have fled with the stream into some larger body. I wait for the moon,...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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HEEDFUL “Hospitals in Ukraine are being battered by artillery and airstrikes with increasing frequency. The World Health Organization said that as of March 30, it had verified 82...
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January 11, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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Insects have transformed into a graveyard the windshield of my Indian Scout. My brother rumbles down the engine of his Chief, pulls off his gloves, loads the camera &...