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
Claim to be Choctaw or Cherokee. Claim to be a princess too.
Poem of the Week
You are the only one who knows not to pour water on the flame.
Poem of the Week
My advice would be not to trust. The ocean is just the ocean until I say otherwise.
Poem of the Week
He had come to weavers’ Harris to make some testament.
Poetry
You walk into your gramma’s kitchen only once for the last time.
Poem of the Week
Each year we fail to imagine how the days will blanch, the air will harden.
Poem of the Week
May the dice throw their combinations at night. May it be June then July.
Poem of the Week
A camper fighting off a grizzly until someone can shoot it dead.
Poem of the Week
It’s not the sun and all its colonies that miss you—it’s the frailest barriers.
Poetry Contest Winners
He was a child. He was dead. He was the shaft of a Long-tailed Astrapia.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
My brush dissects her slick-back black hair to expose ugly white.
Poem of the Week
It’s a small deposit, but I’m putting my faith in reincarnation.
Poem of the Week
You’re certain that they’re harmless, benign as a flock of founding fathers.
Poem of the Week
I lost my pen, I lost my keys, and my hat somewhere on a table.
Poetry
On Saturdays I listen to folk music, lead a life devoted to exodus.
Poetry
I’ve left a casement open disclosing the lording Hudson in its net of lead.
Poetry
I can only say I am here searching solo for remnants of Seoul Drive
iPoems
I could untie Minnie’s silk, restitch it into places I’ve lived.
Poem of the Week
I want my former costar Glenn Close to call me “charm personified.”
Poetry Contest Winners
When I was a woman, I was all reason and my reason was unjust.
Poem of the Week
Take my hand, lead me by heart over the blind stepping-stones to the edge.
Poem of the Week
I give you a real blue song the mountains hold under their foot.
Poem of the Week
A rider prances toward the ash, a sailor looks for meaning in unrequited hearts.
Poetry
I shouldn’t have to say why the confederate flag is a symbol of hate.
Poem of the Week
What if Eve was an Indian & Adam was never kneaded from the earth.
