Steve Klepetar On My Wrist I wrote your name on my wrist with my bad handwriting, and somehow the letters formed a pattern of leaves, or vines, that grew and stretched down my arm, tickling my flesh as tendrils spread, and purple grapes burst out of every stem because you have always been wine, swirling […]
Read MoreSteve Klepetar Sacred The rabbi of joy and wakefulness follows his students toward the library where shadows of books slide along shelves in fluorescent light and nobody speaks because the air is sacred with words, scented with the perfume of ancient poems. Steve Klepetar wishes that he could see Proteus rising from the sea and […]
Read MoreJulian Olson Paranoia Crickets are critics. Julian Olson writes: “I am a high school freshman at Delaware Academy in Delhi, NY. My dad had a poem in here a few months ago. My poems are better than my dad’s, because mine have a point. … I previously submitted this poem, and you liked the idea […]
Read MoreNancy Kay Peterson Resignation Winter nights I lie beneath aunt’s comforter and grandma’s quilt, the only soul left alive to know the meaning of their weight and warmth. Nancy Kay Peterson’s short poetry has appeared most recently online on One Sentence Poems, Spank the Carp and Three Line Poetry.
Read MoreNeil Creighton I woke this morning to music of breath and skin, dark cascade of pillowed hair, a jacaranda-blue sky dancing through the curtains and kookaburras exultant celebration of day. The Australian poet, Neil Creighton, is ever the optimist.
Read MoreSarah Kobrinsky Algorithm You are reading this poem because it has similar content to other poems you have engaged with before. Sarah Kobrinsky‘s collection, Nighttime on the Other Side of Everything, is forthcoming by New Rivers Press (Autumn, 2019).
Read MoreJames Hamby Age 14 He remembered how when he first studied Latin the kitchen grew so cold around midnight. James Hamby would one day like to keep chickens.
Read MoreJames Hamby Age 6 Sitting under his tree at recess, he wondered why being alone made him both happy and sad. James Hamby would one day like to keep chickens.
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