Category Archives: poetry
Four Poems by Shazia Hafiz Ramji
Vigil (or, Ordinary Stranger) “It was a quiet sound, but it woke me up because it was a human sound.” From “The Man on the Stairs” in No one belongs here more than you by Miranda July. 1. To watch
Four Poems by Shazia Hafiz Ramji
Vigil (or, Ordinary Stranger) “It was a quiet sound, but it woke me up because it was a human sound.” From “The Man on the Stairs” in No one belongs here more than you by Miranda July. 1. To watch
Three Poems by Tausif Noor
Apotropaios You always hated the smell of stale cigarettes on my breath But that night you were a little drunk on whiskey so you didn’t care, And held my hand on the 7 train even though We were going through
Three Poems by Tausif Noor
Apotropaios You always hated the smell of stale cigarettes on my breath But that night you were a little drunk on whiskey so you didn’t care, And held my hand on the 7 train even though We were going through
Before Poems by Clare Paniccia
Girl Talk we fight all of the time about useless bullshit like who has to scoop the litter or that maybe today I am being over sensitive; well, so what if I am – I was made with a vagina
Before Poems by Clare Paniccia
Girl Talk we fight all of the time about useless bullshit like who has to scoop the litter or that maybe today I am being over sensitive; well, so what if I am – I was made with a vagina
Five Poems by Dane Karnick
Detective Please assassinate my conjecture with its rehearsal of criminal offense wearing a tuxedo presumably for camouflage against sensibility prompting me to go into the mode of super sleuth and see underneath a watershed moment with telephone poles supporting a
Five Poems by Dane Karnick
Detective Please assassinate my conjecture with its rehearsal of criminal offense wearing a tuxedo presumably for camouflage against sensibility prompting me to go into the mode of super sleuth and see underneath a watershed moment with telephone poles supporting a
Untitled Apartment Poems by Jenne Matthews
I a blue table rests alone around here decorated with sorry flowers and wine a mirror too II cara cara skins beside an exhausted air mattress, announcing our breathes under white walls chipped with quickness sweat and moving on Profile:
Untitled Apartment Poems by Jenne Matthews
I a blue table rests alone around here decorated with sorry flowers and wine a mirror too II cara cara skins beside an exhausted air mattress, announcing our breathes under white walls chipped with quickness sweat and moving on Profile:
Two Poems by Kyle Eldridge
I’m Not Cool ? when will i learn that its not cool: to be a drunk or a junkie or to read books by drunk junkies or to like jazz or even acid rock or ‘hallucinogenic country music’ or to
Two Poems by Kyle Eldridge
I’m Not Cool ? when will i learn that its not cool: to be a drunk or a junkie or to read books by drunk junkies or to like jazz or even acid rock or ‘hallucinogenic country music’ or to
“Acne Face” by Zach Schwartz
dirty red streaks break my face in the morning light and i feel ashamed waking up next to you, reminded of my ugliness in the mirror of your unblemished skin i kiss your mouth to close your eyes because i
“Acne Face” by Zach Schwartz
dirty red streaks break my face in the morning light and i feel ashamed waking up next to you, reminded of my ugliness in the mirror of your unblemished skin i kiss your mouth to close your eyes because i
“MOST OF MY DAYS CONSIST OF MOSTLY NIGHT” by Rei Koz
I INHALE, THEN EXHALE THE “BENSON & HEDGES” SMOKE, AND I TASTE THE GOLD IN MY MOUTH. I CAN TASTE THE GOLD. I AM AT MY LITTLE BROTHER’S SCHOOL, SURROUNDED BY OVERLY LOUD CHILDREN, RUNNING & YELLING; THEY ARE A
“MOST OF MY DAYS CONSIST OF MOSTLY NIGHT” by Rei Koz
I INHALE, THEN EXHALE THE “BENSON & HEDGES” SMOKE, AND I TASTE THE GOLD IN MY MOUTH. I CAN TASTE THE GOLD. I AM AT MY LITTLE BROTHER’S SCHOOL, SURROUNDED BY OVERLY LOUD CHILDREN, RUNNING & YELLING; THEY ARE A
Four Poems by Mirah Sand
i. remember that time you picked up the phone and said “roscoe’s chicken and waffles: what’s your beef?” and it ended up being our really humorless grandmother so you hung up on her i think of the image of you,
Four Poems by Mirah Sand
i. remember that time you picked up the phone and said “roscoe’s chicken and waffles: what’s your beef?” and it ended up being our really humorless grandmother so you hung up on her i think of the image of you,
“11PM Meeting With Death” by Tyler Trelease
Turning to my friend, I say, “I must tell you about death.” We’re staring into a cloudless night Lying there, he turns to look at me “What about it?” The thought of it Too concrete, too limitless for us to
“11PM Meeting With Death” by Tyler Trelease
Turning to my friend, I say, “I must tell you about death.” We’re staring into a cloudless night Lying there, he turns to look at me “What about it?” The thought of it Too concrete, too limitless for us to
