Elinor Ann Walker I will hunger “the wind, the wind,/ the heavenly child”—Hansel and Gretel “Don’t confuse hunger with greed; And don’t wait until you are dead.”—Ruth Stone, “Advice” All paths lead toward hunger. Hunger is a snarling wolf,…
Browsing: Poetry
Kashiana Singh How to destroy a sunny side up, like an 8-month-old practice what you preach, walk the talk, show vs tell he learned to devour the yolk before he learned to bite into a toast, wonder where he…
Anya Kirshbaum In the Midst of Catastrophe, She Blesses What Falls I’m here to confess the asian pear tree in our yard had a year of unabashed bounty, fruits hanging like succulent yellow baubles, so heavy the crown drooping,…
Merie Kirby The witch I have become I plant cosmos and zinnia, flowers that hold their own crowns in their centers. I plant foxglove, so that at the new moon a fox will come and slip her paws into…
Nicole Greaves Scars On a late Friday night in the sauna, women gather, stripped down to their underthings or just wrapped in a white towel becoming spools. Even though we melt like candles, it’s not as hot as my…
Anna Abraham Gasaway The Kenmore Refrigerator The light’s gone out but it still keeps things cold and freezes—Sears has gone out of business, so ten-year warranty’s no good. No repair person will come and visit this relic; it was…
Ana María Carbonell El Laguito I walk down the dirt road to a shortcut through a few pines that once felt like forest follow the path to granite rocks marbled with white stripes like the skirt steaks we always…
Diane Raptosh As for Your Grandma Concettine Let x = any number of grandmothers / Let’s say yours never praised your name / Let’s test / Let’s circumflex / My history = your grandmother ^my mom^ me > you…
Keats Raptosh Conley Your mother, whose name I could never pronounce Dear Mom, Today we killed the rooster and as we boiled his bones I thought of the grandmother whose name I could never pronounce but reminded me of…
Cynthia Atkins Tapestry A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold—Carole King Who knew when I sat cross-legged on the floor eating a bowl of cottage cheese, resting the album jacket in the V of my legs—that…