Poetry

The kids are drunk, acting like adults

Three poems by Robbie Forsyth

Literature 309B, Modern to Multicultural American Literature In the upper division Lit classes there’s a loose interpretation of truth. The instructor faintly prompts discussion and each student speaks, one at a time, as in a ...

The Know-it-all and the Space Invader

Fishing poems from Mesa College

Scott Starbuck, a writing and literature coordinator at Mesa College, is the author of Lost Salmon (MoonPathPress) from which the following excerpts are taken. Know-it-all If it can be caught, shot, bought, or trophy-mounted, he’s ...

Such a tiny little box to carry a soul

Two poems by Mark DiFruscio

Remains Such a tiny little box to carry a soul Faux wood with a walnut coat What does it hold? One foot wide and six inches deep, large enough for a person 170 pounds before ...

Let thy blessèd Spirit bear a part/and make up our defects with his sweet art

Three poems for Easter by George Herbert

Easter Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise Without delays, Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise With him may’st rise: That, as his death calcinèd thee to dust, His life ...

He dips down, a lion, drinking in her nectar

Two poems by Marie Parrish

Heritage He sits Frozen Bent over a book A beaker He stands on steps And looks to the future My future The one he doesn’t know I’ll have Lips tight, determined forehead He sits On ...

Rain, washing me cleaner than I have been since I was born

Three poems by Edward Thomas

April The sweetest thing, I thought At one time, between earth and heaven Was the first smile When mist has been forgiven And the sun has stolen out, Peered, and resolved to shine at seven ...

I used to work the night shift at the gas station on Mission Bay road

Three poems by Frank Montesonti

Truckin’ I used to work the night shift at the gas station on Mission Bay road. The half-hour before sunrise the still gauzy, dream-spattered would float in, and we would conduct our transactions without speaking, ...

Death explodes the day so delicately

Three poems by Marjorie Maddox

A House Divided The toppling wakes me from sleep, that sweet retreat to denial, the state that makes it easier to dismiss destruction. Open eyes collect dust, allow the beams in near the iris, adjust ...

From arrest to needle, he spoke only gibberish

Three poems by Susan Grace

Old Man and Girl Daybreak, like a peach in August, breakfast at the bar, china and silver — doesn’t matter, he’d drink Louisiana chicory coffee out of an old field boot. Hand-mashed blackberry toast, chewing ...

Four children, two cars, and a forest of walnut trees

Three poems by Emily Grosholz

A Summer Place The chestnut tree is sick, its bark scaled By yellow lichen, its leaves curled and brown, Falling already in August when the wind rises Across the patio our rented farmhouse opens Against ...

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