Sarah Dickenson Snyder Ars Poetica As if a pipe burst inside, memory a vast field, those warm strawberries picked, fingers stained in a freshness of all I’ve touched as I hold my breath to stay in the blossoming of what Rilke advised, Go into yourself, your solitude will widen, a whole life touchable— the lemon […]
Read MoreSarah Dickenson Snyder Looking for Signs from My Dead Mother Here I am again at my own birthday party where you’d spin a blind-folded me, the papery donkey tail clutched in my hand as I reach out for what I can’t see. Sarah Dickenson Snyder lives in Vermont, carves in stone, rides her bike, and […]
Read MoreWayne Scheer Carpe Diem My granddaughter takes control of the day, grabs it by its neck and won’t let go, swings it over her head, lassos a runaway hour to make sure it doesn’t escape. Wayne Scheer has been nominated for five Pushcart Prizes and two Best of the Nets.
Read MoreBrett Warren If I’m Lucky the worst thing about dying will be how I won’t be able to write about it what I thought & felt what I saw & smelt the oh fuck! or what the hell…? of it or the last contented breath of it the regret or peace or relief of it […]
Read MoreBrett Warren Mooncake in a Chinese Bakery You came for this round wonder on a paper plate & found windows steamed to invisibility tables & chairs so close you have to go sideways to get the one seat left at a rickety table by the wall the bell on the door an insistent message from […]
Read MoreTara Willoughby Terraforming These days the clouds move faster each time I look at them, and I imagine great great grand nieces sitting under a whirling future sky, giggling at their dusty ancestor and her unrealistic sketches of floating rotund sheep. Sometimes, Tara Willoughby writes poems.
Read MoreMike Dillon Third Grade When I realized the question on the chalkboard was not a question because our teacher already knew the answer I felt something inside me sink one floor. Mike Dillon, who lives northwest of Seattle on Puget Sound, likes brief, cold-water swims and short conversations.
Read MoreMike Dillon And Now I watch my father bent with age step around rather than over a shattered oar left by last night’s tide. Mike Dillon, who lives northwest of Seattle on Puget Sound, likes brief, cold-water swims and short conversations.
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