By: David Ahlman The Starry Night (1889) Who’s seen the mountains doused by flame, blanketed with char and plaintive burns, glowing? The...

By: Cooper Shea you had to walk down this huge, leafed hill to get to it and the water was green but the sound was great a sweet, lowdown...

By: Tanja Tomlinson Plate Tectonics Plate tectonics shift you closer to me, into my space. I hold my shallow breath. It helps distracts...

By: Mathew Weitman That which is not born is hatched from rib forelegs first to pull itself from ossified splinters the heap of which...

By: Pınar Yaşar i entered into this contract with a biological agent, not knowing how long we would be wed, certain that the divorce...

By: Brooke Boveri nicotine for breakfast health-nut never-smoker sucks nicotine for breakfast in my chair at sunrise since I died a...

By: Mick Ó Seasnáin upon the secret shores of Linwood sails roll upon the swell and kites dance in lake-kissed winds to the silvery...

Re: Julia Naman What was this hand, sitting so resolutely in yours, before either of us? Was it someone else’s? Was this wine once...

By: Alexej Savreux As the hack gods chew your white veils And where the sky is hell style I slung there hanging in the hammock of...

By: Zachary Hammer Follow me to a place: Hidden deep in your mind, over a short green fence, Amongst the gardens and deserted municipal...

By: Aremu Adams My mouth hangs the songbird's orange years with a noose on its throat. I want to escape all the walls shrinking me with...

By: Maria Prudente These are the rules of a woman. On Friday fly back to New York City from your cousins wedding. Do your work all day...

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;...