We believe students and readers everywhere deserve a great and free modern library, inside of which they can get deliriously, entertainingly, profoundly lost. And found.
Poetry
Poem of the Week
His body so close I hear the cicada hum of his cells, and he slips away.
Poetry
I’m afraid to say anything or nothing, I’m white & unalterably broken.
Poem of the Week
The dead cowards my parents on a tear through the goddamn fields.
Poem of the Week
By the time I looked over my shoulder, the sun had already fallen.
Poetry
We watched our father chuck her boom box out the bedroom window.
Poem of the Week
End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.
Poetry
My son trims a curtain of lashes, immures them into a stray year.
Poem of the Week
The almanac tells them when the moon passes into ghost weather.
Poem of the Week
He sits hiked up, naked to the waist, like a stone in the bedclothes.
Poetry
I think of the mortal patience that made the constellations long ago.
Poem of the Week
I shoved them one by one, easy as pie yet with care, just shy of mercy.
Poem of the Week
History howls for direction so I remind him how the hero was lost.
Poetry Contest Winners
Tongue, eye, nose—which has the shortest route to the brain, heart?
Poem of the Week
Better to rewrite Baudelaire: The body only exists in the dark.
Poem of the Week
It’s so delicate, the light. And there’s so little of it. The dark is huge.
Poem of the Week
You will be a broke blues man with only some story of how you were.
Poem of the Week
I wanted to ride this day down into night, to smooth the unreadable page.
Poem of the Week
Alone but one year sober and my parole’s nearly done.
Poetry
Ghosts are real. This much I know. It’s the living that give me trouble.
N30B Winners
Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.
Poem of the Week
Now we have the shells, the casings, emptied and scattered, strewn
Poem of the Week
We caress the rough. Sensuous, delectable, and yet sorrowful.
iPoems
Passions played among the orchids and through cherish and reveal.
Poem of the Week
The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.
Poem of the Week
I thought my body was mine until it became a map anyone could use.
Poem of the Week
Have two children to keep around the house in case one goes missing.
Poem of the Week
Here’s where memory, where waves of light washed over him.