RaShell R. Smith-Spears A Writer Speaks of Lineage My foremothers were magic. Their nimble fingers squeezed syntax into cauldrons of rhythm and rolled juju across pages that glared with our erasure; they poured images into white spaces defined by…
Browsing: Poem of the Month
Farideh Hassanzadeh-Mostafavi For My Daughter Not with the milk coursing through my breast but with the sap singing in my unwritten poems did I feed you. Long nights, until the glowing of dew on every lonely leaf; I was…
Megan Merchant Working the Night Shift String a white sheet from the body of trees in the wild, set a lantern behind its screen and wait for the flush of mottled wings to lisp and net the light, note how…
Poem of the Month July 2022 Teresa Tumminello Brader (W)hole Filling one of her orifices with one part of his body is no longer enough. He yearns to crawl inside her. He wants to miniaturize his…
Kyle Potvin The Clock Turns Back 1965 Birth mother, my first mother. Small, startled breaths. How did you learn you were pregnant? * In the cruel November air, did you pray, hand on womb, dread pounding your unmarried…
Jane Muschenetz Lviv, Ukraine Long before Reuters and BBC reporters signed off from it, Lviv, Ukraine was my hometown, I knew it by another name—Lvov, Ukrainian Republic, USSR is, like anyone’s childhood, I suppose, a dot on the map…
Karolina Zapal My Future Daughter During Adolescence My mother is crazy She passes out copies of her favorite poetry to us every morning with toast. She says I am just like her We both stick our noses in our…