Poetry
Poem of the Week
Everything about us, for better or worse,
we make ourselves.
Poem of the Week
She fell out of her own composition, fell and landed flat on her face.
Poem of the Week
Dogs electrocuted, set on fire. What buys the right to drown a dog?
Poem of the Week
You smile into the phone static, the breath of your beloved.
Poem of the Week
You couldn’t believe what the rhododendrons do around here.
Poem of the Week
Severe knobs of head and tail: one a horn of venom, the other masked.
Poetry Contest Winners
Her mother is a locked door with another door behind it.
Poem of the Week
I am subject to you in the way the water is subject to the moon.
Poem of the Week
If only to hold on by opening lord give me this one eighth day
Poem of the Week
I wonder if those tiny computers in pigeons’ brains ever crash?
Poem of the Week
I once watched a man wax a hallway with an overweight rotary brush.
Poem of the Week
You live in this country, you put up bars, you train your dogs to snarl.
Poem of the Week
Her husband is away at the family cabin, and she is glad for the space.
Poem of the Week
We fed our dreams inevitable sins, the kind you lie about till you grow mean.
N30B Winners
The smell of you, muscadine and peat, the bleached salt of semen.
Poem of the Week
How do we get there, to where we can answer what the jingle is asking.
Poem of the Week
Get all of it. Set up the shots. Get beautiful stuff and get the ugliness.
Poetry Contest Winners
People write vows for their weddings of one.
Poem of the Week
Someone seems to have made an excellent age-specific insight.
Poem of the Week
I will make my own man I will stitch together a coat of drunk minks
Poem of the Week
We need to stop talking about it, we need to put some pants on.
Poetry Contest Winners
Bright rot laces the air, light sharpens each leaf. On our way to fallow, fire.
Poem of the Week
The hands opened calmly like seeds, endured the passage of time.
Poem of the Week
You need to teach these cows to meditate. To lose their bodies.
Poetry
I am part dumb, and blind, and deaf, and untasting and unfeeling.
Poetry
In this plummeting weather there is nothing to do but lean in.
