Poetry

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Refugee, 15 by Naomi Thiers

Fear is in your bread and you must choke it down. To think of home— the courtyard with its red filigreed rug, the peel-paint walls, how the breeze...

The Story of My Father by Holly Karapetkova

He spoke seven languages and was never allowed to leave the country. He’d gone to school in Paris, which made him an enemy of the...

Patriotism Reconsidered by Lucinda Marshall

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems by writers who participated in Arlington Writers Resist. My anthem is the serenade of birds, sung without regard...

Dark Energy by Susan Mockler

Ed. Note: Another in our series of poems from poets who participated in Arlington Writers Resist on January 15, 2017 —for the parents of the...

Driving to Juniata by Katherine E. Young

for David Hutto Up there’s the interstate, peeping through trees. Down here among hollows, satellite dishes, a man on his deck guzzles beer, wishes he were driving that...

Soul Vision by Lori Levy

We can’t hide here—the only two white women in the front row of the Crossroads Theater in south L.A., where Isaac, the black man, stands on...

The Cancer Fairy by Judith Swann

It was a small dark body, like a mouse. Unemployed, it still drove the car, pushing the TV out the passenger-side door, yellow chyme and bile the...

Nuts by Melanie Bilkowski

Today is just another Peanut Butter and Jelly day. 0.75 cents per sandwich retail. But by the time My daughter is 35, I am sure that it’ll be triple...

Two Poems by Jacqueline Jules

Avocado Secret When the widow wrote how her husband once said she was like a perfectly ripe avocado, I wanted to rush right out and buy one. Examine its tough exterior, creamy...

Two Poems by Megan Alpert

Island She would cry every time we put her in the carriage. That was all right, and the way I had to lean sideways to...

Must-read

Time Is Plastic by Jay Ulfelder

TIME IS PLASTIC Time is plastic, but not like Lego—more like taffy. Toss whole seconds aside, or ..stretch.one. . . . out. Francesca and I...

Two Poems by Sid Gold

POULTICEWhen you have looked elsewherefor answers—the spider’s web,the empty hive, the rotted log,beneath the unturned stone—ask yourself what you haveneglected. Do not lamentthat what...

Violin Plays by Adele Brown

Violin Plays She holds on tight to bow and strings, yet,it is her body, curving and rounding,on inner caverns that gives musicits beginnings:  Soaked in...
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