Poetry CATEGORY

Original poetry.

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Girrl begins with a growl. The double “rr” lets you know you’re in for something.
Me and Dorothy Day meet for coffee and watery soup at a downtown five-and-dime lunch counter. Me, a cub reporter; she, a...
my heart is open country now low sky on a flat plain a lone horse splits its hoof on a stone hobbles off * mountains hol...
Because desperate men fight always to control something— this time it is ma’a, the water as it disappears— this gi...
Father and I were skipping stones when I was five. I missed the pond, hit him in the ear with a big rock. It hurt. He la...
Lourdes Acevedo writes a tribute poem for ruth weiss. Lourdes first read her poem at The Poetry Festival in San Francisc...
I held it in my hand, gender unknown The blood sticky and warm Taking repose, inside the crease, of my lifeline, The rus...
It is midday and she reads on the bed. Her curves are clothed, she lies on her stomach: Copper strands strewn over a bla...
The walls around me They hover Menacingly Coming closer From all sides Joining hands Together They weigh me down Constri...
Cut me up and put me back together as another body. Take the thumbs and poke out the eyes. Sew the heart into the pelvic...
I tiptoe over clothes scattered across the floor. It is noon and the room is dark. The shutters are closed, holding in d...
and everywhere is war… what can i save against the drowning of a nation i got nailed in, from the first crown of my fa...
Hello, there. You don’t know me, Although you know my name I think And can at times Connect it to a face. I’...
Her house is empty now. Only the tailless tabby, Joy, prowls the staircase. She walks to the corner store, buys one red ...