Crystal Karlberg In The New Year My children scatter likes stones and all of last year’s accumulated knowledge is already useless. Extant is a passive way of saying we exist. Once I lost my car in the airport parking lot.…
Praise poems and the poets who write them, plus two writing prompts A Folio Curated by JP Howard I love writing praise poems and teaching others how to write praise poems. Praise poems let us acknowledge all the complicated and…
KC Trommer Up So often I think of everything I cannot tell you, everything that will not translate across time. If there is a camera, let it catch us, so you may see something of this story that…
B. Fulton Jennes Wake Up on Wednesday, Sober sip seltzer water at a party, sober let the dog sniff every tree trunk, sober park between two lines without closing one eye, sober wave to neighbors at their mailboxes, sober…
Elizabeth Lara Kitchen Gadgets Praise the kitchen where the gadgets wait in mute competition, where I stand looking out the window over white peace lily blooms and snake plant spikes, where out of the corner of my eye I…
Peggy Robles-Alvarado Ode To The Necessary Distance Between Us: A Contrapuntal DISCLAIMER PERFORMED AS INTERNAL MONOLOGUE BEFORE SHARING POEMS ABOUT MY MOTHER: An experiment in giving myself permission disclaimer.this is a disclaimer.here.i came to declamar.declaim.make claims…
r. erica doyle wander r. erica doyle is the author of proxy (Belladonna* Books). Her prose and poetry have…
Sunu P. Chandy Learning to Hold the Candle Solo parenting a nine-year-old during a Buddhist evening peace ceremony, we are asked to walk from the meeting hall to the pond a block away and place our boats with candles…
Wendy Grossman Praise For My Mother praise my mother and her big-boned beauty praise the breath she takes from me every time an old photo resurfaces praise those photos, sparse the same ones over and over praise especially the…
Dorsía Smith Silva Requiem my son asks for a baby brother for Christmas / so easily / like going to the drive-through / to get some ubiquitous made-to-order meal / Big Mac with extra cheese / onions and…
Erica Bodwell Child, Mother This child, who started as autumn leaves blown against the house, paper crane with a secret code folded inside, dream from which I believed I’d awaken, untroubled, to the old landscape—as easily as setting out…
Tamara J. Madison Till Poem for Mamie Till We have buried you so many times, sifted through files and notes, slipped our fingers through cracks and crevices to find some semblance of sense,…