Gift
By Marie Ungar
“These days, I often wish I could scrape myself / out from the inside and exist as a thing / un-woman.”
Blog
I’m Not Saying Anything About the Schmidt Pain Scale
“his sister mentioned the mental illness that tunneled its way through the family tree, the honeycomb clusters of sisters & fathers & mothers & daughters”
Deadlines: June & July
Every middle of the month: new deadlines, new contests, and new opportunities for your voice to find the …
Dramaturgy
“As if sin were a banked dark in flood-lit / Chiaroscuro. As if light / were revelation, as if gesture or illumination were / truth,”
Poetry We Admire: The Body
This June, Palette’s Poetry We Admire column looks at four recent poems which all engage with the theme of The Body, a site of growth, of memory, of loss and beginning, of wishes granted, left, or half-fulfilled.
Missing
I split the horizon of my body to get to the center— / a sparkly soft bellied fish, small enough / to swim in the color of your eye.
Land Was Useless
“once / having a / taste / upon the tongue that I was never able to name / I ran a mad dash / for water”
Aftermath
O hands that wound, / no one sung this song to you, / no one rimmed your neck with shame.
IF I’M CAUGHT BETWEEN A BADGE AND A HARD PLACE THREE HOURS AFTER THE STREET LIGHTS TURN ON
will you stain the sky in black smoke / will you tell ghost stories / over the ashes of this empire /