Here is a list of all the Poems of the Week in 2017–2018.
Poem of the Week is produced in participation with Copper Canyon Press. For submission information, go to the POTW Guidelines.
Her third eye wandered like every son she’d ever love.
A man would end the tour with an invitation to a drink.
The informal garden is a homeland for broken harps.
Soap myself up, pluck my toes like a harp.
The rest of America still calls you a refugee.
It is revenge. It is lullaby. It is forgiveness, I think.
Unleash our power, our hounds, our chi, our china.
Money gotten by blood tends to stay in the blood.
They died to prove the might of an empire.
Alas one tries hard drugs, one hates like a land stolen.
Imagine several thousand paper bombs swimming through air.
If I’m alive, then I’m ashamed at my mouth, silent as a thief.
Praise the boys who adorn their mutts with bandannas.
By morning, I knew the year was warming.
What happened to me is a history of messes.
We don’t say we are armed when we mean our arms.
You carried the dog back in your arms like an offering.