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.
iPoems
If others call you a maniac or a fool, just let them wag their tongues.
iPoems
The horse had been beaten and flies crawled on the beat marks.
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.
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
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.
N30B Winners
Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.
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 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.
Poem of the Week
I want to remember us this way—sun streaming through the window.
Poem of the Week
She can go to Bible study every Sunday and swear she’s still not convinced.
Poem of the Week
Streetlights throw the blinds against the ceiling. It’s 7:00 p.m.
Poetry
Royal baby George is tucked in the crook of his mother’s elbow.
Poetry Contest Winners
Is she dreaming of the rivers soft with codling in her hometown?
Poetry
All over the planet people try to end pain: striptease, bee stings.