Poetry
Features
The smart hide their claws in their paws, then add fur for allure.
Poem of the Week
I am tamping down the earth with the flat side of a blade I am burying you
Poem of the Week
Hearing them coughing in the hall, you rose from your desk.
Poetry Contest Winners
I wanted to forget my parents’ slow dying together in Ohio.
iPoems
Sitting on the edge, I leaned back and fell, wrist-deep, into the body of a deer.
Poem of the Week
Purple planets, dirt stars. Imagine the carom in the hall, how it sounded.
Poem of the Week
The coyotes are making a kill. Their voices rise through the darkness.
Poem of the Week
I’m trying to believe I can sense the river when I can’t.
Hard to call beauty an affliction, but I think it is what makes my blindness hurt.
Poetry
Getting over being drunk makes you wonder why the hell you did that.
Poetry
You see, I plan on remaining here as the most foolish god in the world.
Poem of the Week
All that I’ve had, I’ve left propped up in a glass vase: cut stems at rest.
Poem of the Week
No salt tears,
and a continent between her ashes and Father’s.
Poetry
He drowned under a different name, a fake name chiseled in German.
Poem of the Week
If all along we all had known the leaves we leafed would leave us
Poetry
Ideology, all of us inanimate in the face of the onslaught.
Poetry
Still it’s true I began as they did the ones she kept: newt-like moonish
Poem of the Week
I pass my hands over my eyes, mired by the miti-
gation of routine.
gation of routine.
Poetry
Love I know is the husk caught and throbbing under your gums.
Poem of the Week
There’s nothing left to do but crush the garlic, check the water on the stove.
Poem of the Week
The cherry tree’s trance of petals tumbled bit by bit to the sidewalk.
Poetry Contest Winners
A painter dies of a heart attack before finishing a portrait of Churchill.
iPoems
The light from dead stars only exists in the minds of the living.
Poetry
Everything changed. And to our greater shame, nothing did.
Poetry
There it was, the urge to hurt one’s neck by craning toward the dazzle.
Poetry
To enter the dust of their bedroom, to stand invisible on the plush carpet.
Poem of the Week
What that truth is doesn’t matter, finally, because of your persistence.
Poetry
Knowing that it will end i saw myself again at the fair popping balloons
Poem of the Week
ConEd drills the street to dendrites, tapping morse at the old house.
Poem of the Week
Heat heat and the sky a flame of sapphire, even rocks blazing.
