2017-

Poetry Archive

POETRY 

Three poems by John Dorsey

John DorseyMaking Weightfor steve burrik, 1976-2011i’m guessing that you never imagined being middle aged at seventeen steve, in junior high i wanted to be you with your shiny doc martens cheerleader girlfriends and brand new skateboards every other week i didn’t...

Two poems by Caitlyn Siehl

Caitlyn Siehl At Your Feet You dream she fucks the bad love out of you Purifies your body at the altar of hers until the water isn't holy anymore Until you shine like all forgiven things do Tell me where do the nightmares go after she takes them from you Where does...

Three Poems by Taylor Emily Copeland

Taylor Emily Copeland Saturday night is a distant memory It used to be nearly empty glasses of wine, sweat beading on our shoulders in June, tipsy dares that ended up in tongues tangled - a Sapphic freeze frame of our early twenties. It used to be dragging Casey's...

Three poems by Chad Frame

Chad Frame Bryan In shock, form loses function; function, form. Simple geometries I’ve taken for granted— the parabolic curve of your bare ass in curtained moonlight, a conic bouquet of just-because roses, the oblate spheroid we inhabit together skews, warps,...

Two Poems by Paul Koniecki

Paul Koniecki driving-thru mcdonalds  this morning grabbing your breakfast of small coffee and medium talk i say i want to live forever and this apple pie is baked you reply death by samurai sword and death by lightning is still death referencing ishmael reed rza and...

Three Poems by Joe Weil

Joe Weil JAY! (for Clare) Anyone who knows me knows the blue jay is my totem bird: I have found his feathers at odd times stuck between pages of Tacitus or floating down from a Beech limb where no Jay had seemed to perch. His raucous proclamations—high tenor to a...

Four Poems by Sarah Maria

Sarah Maria Ripples   My father whistles to Dylan records like a lark in harmony with a river's babble, chorus hanging like hands balancing atop the water's rippled skin. Poetic bard in paternal clothing, melody carried like the sway of a mother in her rocking, though...

Three Poems by Jake St. John

Jake St. John When I Die, I Die My hands will no longer write poems my voice will no longer recite words my bones and ash returned to earth somewhere when I die the sky will still be blue the sun will still rise a dog will chase a cat a poet will write a poem about a...

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