The Geek Who Understands You
Sunday –Cecily Parks So this is Sunday evening under the live oak behind the kitchen where the Rose of Sharon spills purple tea onto the grass, the yellow bells sound yellow alarms from tall stalks, and the sunflowers peep over the fence into…
Mr. Chairman Takes His Leave –Rosemary Catacalos As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles. —Walt Whitman en memoria William Rashall Sinkin, 1913–2014 Whitman, you once told me, is democracy on the page, messy and imperfect as we are in…
April Chores by Jane Kenyon When I take the chilly tools from the shed’s darkness, I come out to a world made new by heat and light. The snake basks and dozes on a large flat stone. It reared and scolded me for raking too close…
A Modified Villanelle for My Childhood –Suzi F. Garcia with some help from Ahmad I wanna write lyrical, but all I got is magical. My book needs a poem talkin bout I remember when Something more autobiographical Mi familia wanted to assimilate,…
The Dark Night (XVIII) –May Sinclair Our love is woven Of a thousand strands— The cool fragrance of the first lilac At morning, The first dew on the grass, The smell of wild mint in the wood, The pungent and earthy smell of ground…
pity this busy monster, manunkind –e. e. cummings pity this busy monster, manunkind, not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim (death and life safely beyond) plays with the bigness of his littleness — electrons deify one razorblade into a…
Gratitude List –Naomi Shihab Nye Thank you for insulting me. You helped me see how much I was worth. Thank you for overlooking my humanity. In that moment I gained power. To be forgotten by the wider world and the righteous religious and the weaponized…
Blue Like That –Gerald Stern She was a darling with her roses, though what I like is lavender for I can dry it and nothing is blue like that, so here I am, in my arms a bouquet of tragic lavender, the whole history of…
High, Higher, Highest Samuel Hazo Viewed from space, the world’s impersonal. France appears, but no Frenchmen. Then Germany, without one German. Regardless, the richest man on earth pays three hundred thousand for a ten-minute flight by rocket at three thousand miles…
Gifts Kirk Wilson I kept my life in a small room with pale blue walls and brought it back little presents from the world This is for you I would say This is for you Sometimes the gifts died in my hands and often I could not pay the…
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