To Remember a Poem poem by Billy Kwan A minute to half-past twelve. The moon’s sphere of light hides behind veils of clouds. You tilt your head back. Thoughts descend like mist that hovers around the ankles. The trickiest part is always some other thing than a thought; so you begin to forget. The
TagPoetry
“Crocodylia” poem by Jason Fernando
Crocodylia poem by Jason Fernando He sat heavily on the cushioned surface, eyes jittering out the window. Inside, a warm room, its low-lit scenery accented by the blue-cold glare emanating from beyond café windows, those moderating view-panes and embassies to the external. Outside, cool air shifted imperceptibly in convective motions, as visibly all was still
“Presage” poem by Mo Lawrence
Presage poem by Mo Lawrence I woke and wondered how to go about pronouncing presage. In this, I pronounced the wondering, but could not pronounce the presage. In this, presage was palimpsest: a Thing made Things in chord. Can the poem presage if I cannot not muck the meter? Yes: It can presage a decline.
“I Pick You Up at the Airport” poem by Sara Dueck
I Pick You Up at the Airport poem by Sara Dueck You pop out at holidays, my birthday, In August stepping down to the tarmac. My air conditioning broke last month and Beads of wax run down Your face. Thirsty Trees line up. You look out the back windows. I told you You could have
“Archetype-fetting childhood” poem by Harry Chiu
Archetype-fetting childhood poem by Harry Chiu The songful-done wording was written at tower I flashpanned along the bluecooling brook. Sunflighting words wrung wistfully wide And all heady lightphrase hazeldown took. Spundance flew beyond bournebearing hamlet Birdsong like writwalk cantering home. I never flingfocused at washingdin shoreline Nor floatdraft away fromto springberry loam. Likedream
“Love across a Long Table” poem by Katie Selbee
Love across a Long Table poem by Katie Selbee after Christopher Evans’ “Like a Sauna Choked with Incense” In my unmade mind my fingers perpetually pinch your jaw as if feeling for canine teeth. I am inspecting: considering you first from that angle and then this. With your unvarnished splintered skin you look like Shackleton,
“Like a Sauna Choked with Incense” poem by Christopher Evans
Like a Sauna Choked with Incense poem by Christopher Evans after Michael Ondaatje’s “Sweet Like a Crow” Your hair is like molasses spilled down the front of a new white stove, like the synchronized thrum of forty-two wren’s wings, like a sepia photograph of turtlenecked children Like a drink thrown in serious weather, a mahogany
“Even a Broken Clock Is Right Twice a Day” poem by Michael Prior
This work is now accessible only in the print edition, as per the author’s request. You can buy the print edition at our launch parties and ESA events, or send us a quick e-mail request.
“Jupiter” poem by Karen Hugdahl Meyer
Jupiter poem by Karen Hugdahl Meyer A boy dreams of outer space makes a rocket ship from a cardboard box. He is a small planet orbiting his sister— the sun at the centre of his universe. He asks how to spell Jupiter. She sounds the “J” j-j-jutting out her jaw draws a hook in the
“Tomato” poem by Maia Nichols
Tomato poem by Maia Nichols into some swamp land dream scape I trudged with a small wooden paddle and some grape juice for the morning, not looking back or harnessing any of the uncertainty that was collecting dust in my den back home, naïve yet with a slightly sour aftertaste, like the grapes growing on
“Herd” poem by Kate Radford
Herd poem by Kate Radford I have taken shelter from my kind among slow trees in the glen. Shaded from white cloud-light by waxy leaves – some spined, some smooth – layered in shades of green whittling the weak light to bright points of white. Underneath here is wind and the second-hand rain (a morning’s
“forced feels” poem by Emma Wilson
forced feels poem by Emma Wilson peelings on the table must be brushed off with a quick hand and collected by the other. roughness of orange remnants must be scrubbed with equal roughness. calluses scrape the surface, fingernails knead dirt in the kitchen and the garden. * other fingers need my skin to trace the
“What is Possible” poem by Michael Warne
What is Possible poem by Michael Warne Close fall bark. Walking through the woods, I can’t help but wonder: do I make this much sound in the city? Door closing, keys falling, barking. I’m only now noticing the way couch potatoes grow eyes and roots, and how bookworms never crawl.
“The Things Our Mouths Know” poem by Jessica Vugteveen
The Things Our Mouths Know poem by Jessica Vugteveen Samson met Delilah at a party, drunk on wine, after he’d pulled down a temple full of Philistines. He knew her name before he’d asked, another talent from the Lord, and the name opened like a flower on his tongue, De…lie…lah, the petals curling in his