Poetry
We believe that poetry is a form of storytelling. So if prose aren't for you check out our poetry guidelines and submit. We publish poems every Monday.
Last Words By Swan Lake
Becoming an animal is not so bad
when your wings are humming, singing,
when the passionate mane is yours,
DeeJay Love
Sixteen years after Buggles’ one-hit wonder,
we were still smacking snooze-buttons on clock radios,
jarred awake by Top 40 and traffic on the nines.
We listened on the bus going to and from school.
We listened in the locker room.
Girls Who Refuse to Die
It’s not about those who get flushed out surreptitiously
as a scarlet blob between thighs
Neither is it about those who are scraped out of wombs
With rusty tools of quacks in back alley
if i could put into words what everyday feels like
each mouthful a creation, of
chaos + war + destruction
within.
Children of the Cupola
Cliché to say they’re gone, wings pinned
behind the supple backs, longings fled
with the Steller jays’ flitting from porch to branch.
The Calculus of Rain
Come to drum this metal roof in sixteenth
and thirty-second notes, to puddle, gouge
a dirt road that spins the tires’ worn teeth.
Girls on Bus #197
I sit with the girls that hide behind their books,
and hurry through the hallways hoping no one would look
The girls that stand in front of mirrors
