This August’s Poetry We Admire comes on the heels of a month which saw the release of the …
“Easily, the dead are the wittiest among us, and you among them, lying there that evening, so peaceful, as though only just resting.”
By Sara Elkamel
“Some say on the night of its flowering, a corpse flower will smell like it’s dying. It’s a good thing I’m good, and not flowering.”
“I hold hate in my heart, a hearth. / My hands, kindling.”
By Carlina Duan
“I was creamy / with hope. red muck of stars to line my / underwear. my abdomen thick / with ghosts”
By Serrina Zou
“There is never enough bleach to taint our country clean, only enough / body politics to call ourselves a nation.”
Someone has fake-planted geraniums in a pot down the block from me / and though they are too bright and untextured to be real, they still / sometimes fool me.
Hunger is a kind of sermon; to see a lonely thing and want to make it a part of yourself.