Overblown Roses
“to show me how the world began / and ended in perfection.” | by Mimi Khalvati
“He was sparse in his words / And generous in his loves” | by Marjorie Agosin
from “Poems para Papa” Read More »
“Come, my darling, come with me:” | by Orphan Veli
My Gold-Toothed One Read More »
“All the little cries of light / glisten like icons in the darkest valleys” | by Maurya Simon
“to make the journey darker,/some watch cigarette smoke worm/its way toward the sublime.” | by Lance Larsen
“to savor the small treat hidden…//by the distance imposed on us” | by Suzanne Cleary
ALFREDO GERMONT EATS A GRANOLA BAR Read More »
“for how you outlived the awful wait/that fear can make of longing…//….we find bright ways to survive.” | by Geffrey Davis
A ghost is not one who cannot let go but one who we cannot let go of…//Now I am neither one thing nor another” | by Kazim Ali
“Who was I when I came here before./What were all the reasons I found all this…” | by Kazim Ali
“For us there’s no epic end, no begging the king of the underworld/to return the lost son, no father casting himself grief-stricken into the sea.” | by Kazim Ali
Icarus Turns Fifty Read More »
“But it seems to me, I can still please/A nineteen-year-old boy, like you,/Like this, the way I wear these beads” | by Celia Dropkin
To My Son Who Gave Me Light Blue Beads Read More »
“His feet leapt inches from God-given ground./His smile was toothy, laugh snapped toothy joy./His head—his heart—his head was tightly wound:” | by Ben Riggs
“We live on separate planets now,/And she mulls and mulls,/Wanting to join me in my world,/Where sometimes I’m a son, sometimes not,” | by C.G. Hanzlicek
My Mother’s Memory Read More »
“Her work/in the quiet corners of barns on the hay, on hot days/when locusts launch themselves out of thickets.” | by Santee Frazier
“Sometimes in these Bengali summers/When dust sticks to our skins/And the crows shit on our heads/We bond like hydrocarbons,” | by Zubair Ahmed
“the smell somehow staying with me//well beyond his walking into the living room naked” | by Allen Shadow
It Was the Coffee in the Mornings Read More »
“We sew my mother’s body into the blanket. I make stitches. My sister makes stitches. My brother’s wife, my half sister. Other women.” | by Goldberry Long
Litany for My Mother’s Body Read More »
“What death desires most/is the body that it had to endure/James Baldwin’s body/is qualified” | by Zang Di
James Baldwin is Dead Read More »