“I tell it to the ducks, who have / no dialect beyond the lightness // of their bodies.”

singing → nobody supposed to be here up (↑↑) & down (↓↓) the elevator in my building

Cain’s Wife On The Fifth Day Of Rain

“the fair boy says he’s been peeling since manhood stripped him of innocence, but that’s not a / grief solvent enough to dissolve his whole”

“the heaving of cyanobacteria / blooms in steaming lakes / no less bustling with life / than a field of dandelions”

“A coyote tells secrets to the hemisphere / of my mind that cannot speak. It is busy shuffling / scene after scene of each girl I’ve been.”

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We are so grateful to every poet who shares their work with us—please enjoy perusing the stunning work in our poetry archive.

“Even our orchid chokes on / the affection—overwatered, coffee grounds for soil. / The flies connive among the fruit.”

“at her waist, of silk more than wood. / the rush whisper”

“Superimpose over all of this a photo of our younger selves— / tight smiles and a greedy earnestness that nearly // undid us—”