Laurin Becker Macios Mama, Look Laurin Becker Macios’ books include the forthcoming YA verse novel Calling Me Home (Holiday House, 2026) and the poetry collection Somewhere to Go, winner of the…
Browsing: Poetry
Kali Pezzi I Treat My Postpartum Depression With Friends On Facetime Self-diagnosed. I’m in the midst of an existential crisis. I text crisis text line and they ask me if I have weekend plans. I don’t. I can’t plan…
Sara Quinn Rivara Single Motherhood Is My Superpower I wish I could shoot light out of my hands. Light would fill me as water fills a glass. I wouldn’t let men near. Summer evenings, I’d walk unafraid through dark…
Adrie Rose Climate Strike I organize the strike and I burn dinner. I organize the strike and I carry our clothes two blocks to the laundromat. The news says it’s already too late and I organize the strike. I…
Wendy Mannis Scher Memo to the Absent Facing west, feel the weight of late afternoon press itself against the windows. Such heat, and the refracted sun quilts the floor, the walls, the skin, dust motes threading rainbows. Beyond the…
Jennifer Barber Writing Too Fast, I Write “Thew” for “The” As if you and I commingled +++++++++in the dark and later the same day I give birth to little baby Thew, +++++++++born in winter under a mauve sky. By…
U-Meleni Mhlaba-Adebo Life Quiver I think I felt my daughter speak to me whisper her presence in the depths of my core felt her name bubble in my mind Shamiso her brown angelic face showing herself through the tears the…
Hilary King Investigations Are you watching your sad detective show our daughter asks us each evening. Sad L. A. detective, sad British detective, sad Swedish detective in gray blue suit standing in a gray blue field, white-shrouded body at his…
Sharon Dolin Two Questions after Marianne Moore My mother would ask, “Is he tall? Is he a good kisser?” whenever a new man entered my life. I always wondered, Did she mean just kissing or was she asking if he…
Jennifer Garfield ghazal for the meadow of my heart forgive me: this morning i walked through a meadow damp and buzzing. i thought, what of the meadow of my heart? even i can barely stomach it. like a poem…