Poetry Archives - Page 7 of 30

To All The White People Who Voted for Change But Not To Hurt Me

May 4, 2018 | Poetry, Reading Room

On Nov. 8th just before midnight, I began to disappear. Because if he were that person, I myself would be the first to say "I made a mistake, I made a terrible mistake." —Eric...

mother’s tongue

Nov 10, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

Our 2017 Poetry Contest Honourable Mention. mother's tongue They often ask: Will you teach your children your language? As if it is a weapon I carry. Of course I will, ensure they are more fluent than I was. Hope that they can read and write it too....

There Was Once This Woman Who, at Dawn, Trespassed Across the Sand

Aug 30, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

She built a tower for herself. What a waste of sand, they all thought, and to not lower her hair down—who waits, in a desert, to be overcome She built a tower for herself. What a waste of sand, they all thought, and to not lower her hair down—who waits, in a desert,...

My Body is Somebody

Jun 14, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

—not part of me. She makes up games like Quidditch and plays with me. Body throws me down —not part of me. She makes up games like Quidditch and plays with me. Body throws me down on the playground and laughs with them who laugh at me. My body is a gaping hole that...

Nipiy

Jun 14, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

If our gratitude dries parched, we think nothing of water If our tongues shrink, we think of nothing but water nothing of water; foresight shortened dry, memory of these -dry -days Water, is taught by thirst. Land — by...

Working Titles for Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives

May 2, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

Abattoirs, Abortuaries, and America (HOO-RAH) Bleach and Beer-Batters, Batman! Camaro . . . Catchphrases . . . Catachresis . . . Donkey-sauce; Donkey-sauce; Donkey-sauce Abattoirs, Abortuaries, and America (HOO-RAH) Bleach and Beer-Batters, Batman! Camaro . . ....

Higher Math

Apr 20, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

Our 2017 Short Forms Contest Honourable Mention. Higher Math I. I didn’t think it could happen again, after the burst tubes, emergency surgery, parents rushing north on a chartered plane. A year after, Janka visits, playing grandma, turning our kitchen fragrant,...

Willie

Mar 31, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

Every night, you sleep on my neck. Contentment seeps through our chakras. Every night, you sleep on my neck. Contentment seeps through our chakras. Your serene breaths and dreams of banana chips and walnut pieces and slow pats on the head, in that flat little plateau...

Castle

Mar 19, 2017 | Poetry, Reading Room

Low dirt path parts Loch Awe as a helix unbinding. We walk like thistled mutants to Kilchurn ruins. Low dirt path parts Loch Awe as a helix unbinding. We walk like thistled mutants to Kilchurn ruins. Us more ice and pine sap than salt or lanolin, but whisky, yes,...

Clinting in the Woods . . .

Dec 12, 2016 | Poetry, Reading Room

. . . I found a pair of velvet-coated antlers, three fingers reaching from an open palm still throbbing with platelet’s hot breath . . . I found a pair of velvet-coated antlers, three fingers reaching from an open palm still throbbing with platelet’s hot breath as...