By: Alexandra Umlas Peggy Dobreer showed up to the 2018 Poetry Circus at the Griffith Park Merry Go Round in a “poetry dress,” offering...

By: Maren Brander Rain stampedes from high, a rush of wild wolves, and I wish it would stop, slow down, save the damage but under the...

By: Georg Koszulinski There’s a reason. Unfriend this page, unfriend this poem. Hello. Sharpen a pencil, the resolve of a vengeance poem....

By: Amanda Villafranco Matins Hands fold, legs fold, bodies fold into prayer, spoken in tongues, in teeth, in the silent sheen of sweat...

By: Austin Crowley Misted dew hangs in the fronds of evergreen and wood. Ponds of collected yesterday rain serve as reflecting pools for...

By: Ágnes Cserháti the silencing the interiority we create by reading is rich and lonely ~ Marie Howe when the sword was thrust into her...

By: Anastasia Jill She wiped the rheum from the daybreak’s edge the dyslexia of lights and leaves, interplaying of sunrise waxing erratic...

By: Annabelle Bonebrake Humdrum ​ Waiting for the frogs to call. Counting frogs, counting calls. Awry in spacious waiting, we are...

By: KPB Stevens Leaves as shards of light and a breeze blows across the park, and on the river a wide, white birch dangles its reflection...

By: Jo Varnish A text will distract me – your text Any text though, really We begin with a text You hold my hands and we sit on the pier...

By: Nanya Jhingran ho bisogno di niente for every quarter salvaged from the backs of drawers - hands rummaging in search, unaided by...

By: Alex Aldred i have a habit of finding projectiles round the side of the house – splinters of glass where no bottle ever smashed;...

By: Karolina Zapal WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FRUIT you can pick off a tree? What is your favorite fruit you can pick off a woman? You have to...

By: Raymond Byrnes Motion Once or twice a week, sometimes very late a motion-activated bulb illuminates the patio. Sometimes it’s a...

By: Michael Fertik Oh, carbon Chrysler bromide! Thank G-d for your offgas Polyvinyl chloride Desorption. Fine tiny olfactory divine, New...

By: Rosemarie Dombrowski What We Mean When We Say Organic Evolution Frog They’re the subject of European folklore and Peruvian art, toxic...

By: Enoch the Poet When I say “I like the taste of alcohol,” What I’m saying is...I like the feel of a throat in smolder, of lightning...

By: Tejan Green Waszak late summer A cherry almond hush of early morning enough to let memory dig itself into new ambition. Three years...

By: Madronna Holden I Someone has polished the sky-- There is a burnished track to heaven in your eyes And now you are the one to speak...

By: Kanza Javed And now I reap this kind of fear How will it feel To be shot outside a grocery store by a lone white gunman in America Or...

By: Michelle Dodd My family is as white as Dogwoods. I felt I was pulled from the African Diaspora. My identity crisis started from...

By: Lauren Turner Watching you sleep, your face becomes landscape: I've imagined tiny snow-skiers dotting the slopes of your brow, nose,...

By: Evan Brown Open Space You were told it was healing to climb above the valley and glimpse the sun’s beginning, to feel the grass...

By: Elizabeth Lasiter I just dropped my ex’s ashes on the floor. They were in between a book crease, contained in a wearable orb. A...