Explore

Definitely believe what you hear about the problems with painkillers.

The first murder had been a half dozen years ago in a warmer city.

Exit the building. Say nothing to anyone. They did. And they didn’t.

There lay before us a bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold.

A dead body leaned sideways against a wall. Its eyes were open.

Ajax can answer all this killing only with the killing of himself.

Let him search, Tricia thought, who knew what he might discover.

He was alongside without preamble. Elephants are not stealthy by nature.

“The doors are closed,” she said, and we would not be flying to Paris.

Neither fame nor wealth could provide consolation for life’s brevity.

She wears her nakedness like it has been woven from air.

No fields of gold. No ripe. One hill, no wave, no roll. I am billboards.

Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.

In that world I was a fish too eager to enter the nets; here, I’m a river.

The coverage of the state funeral, black horse bearing an empty saddle.

The air has grown inside me. It’s become a sanctuary.

Rebecca Lehmann

One day, we will all turn into choir girls—all soft and hollow inside.

I try to believe that even when cords are cut or people die we connect.

Dan Gerber reads poems of boyhood, and from the end of his mother’s life.

I want to sleep in a bed next to a man who won’t dream of me all night.

A car curved left, leapt the curb, and came at us like the line of a bullet.

We did not know at the moment of parting that it was a parting.

A homecoming, she says, as if you hadn’t been back in decades.

The angel lay in his body effervescent as a flake of alabaster.

I wore the rose pants for weeks without telling anyone.

My first true love was Underwood, my mother’s typewriter.

The world seemed newly made and filled with a frightening silence.

The portal light, on your face, now, a rose light on a sinking freighter.