Moonbeam
“Baby, / each limb is a ray / of moon, draped / in sequins, poshness, / grandeur”
“Baby, / each limb is a ray / of moon, draped / in sequins, poshness, / grandeur”
“Telling It” by Holli Flanagan explores the stickier parts of poetic craft—telling the “truth” in our confessions, taking risks in our writing, and killing our darlings. “Telling It” weaves poetic histories, literary thinking, and Holli’s own writing experiences to investigate what exactly poetry asks of us.
By Winifred Mok
“A stranger’s cursive, passing grin / hidden sweet in gaps of stanzas”
“I am interested in toying with repetition and, as is obvious, repetition keeps our heart going, keeps us alive.”
We are so grateful to every poet who shares their work with us—please enjoy perusing the stunning work in our poetry archive.
“5/ Getting on implied that / testosterone had a seat for me to sit upon, / was a place to rest. / Was possibly a waiting equine / already saddled up— / her brown nose breaking my heart.”
“We are not god’s first children / after all. They are skin to skin, / the field in flux, the aura of earth.”
By Vuong Pham
“Two branches reach toward each other. Golden whistlers sing / as if it were the first day of creation.”