Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Video: Cormac McCarthy explains how a 9-5 job limits your artistic potential

. As Cormac McCarthy tells Oprah Winfrey in 2007 during his first television interview ever, he has made his creative work the central focus of his life to the exclusion … Continue reading

January 20, 2018 · Leave a comment

Walter Bargen: Real Rumors

Now that it’s done being undone, or, at least, the end of the beginning of undone, depending on the harrumphing water pumps and which side of the bulldozer blade is … Continue reading

January 19, 2018 · Leave a comment

Alexis Rhone Fancher: Thin-Skinned

You called it the ‘Winter of the Oranges,’ that February into March when our love was new, and the downtown Farmer’s Market sold thin-skinned navel oranges for cheap. You’d grab … Continue reading

January 18, 2018 · Leave a comment

Robert Okaji: Sometimes Love is a Dry Gutter

Or a restless leaf, a footprint.   Is fault on a blameless day, scrawled on a washed-out sky.   My friend’s music orbits his home, worms through the cracks in … Continue reading

January 17, 2018 · 6 Comments

Andrena Zawinski: Dancing with Neruda’s Bones  

Neruda, only known to me in the poet’s words–– I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul–– Neruda’s bones … Continue reading

January 16, 2018 · Leave a comment

Frances Harper: Bible Defense of Slavery

Take sackcloth of the darkest dye, And shroud the pulpits round! Servants of Him that cannot lie, Sit mourning on the ground. Let holy horror blanch each cheek, Pale every … Continue reading

January 15, 2018 · Leave a comment

Jose Padua: Self-Portrait as a Being of Sound and Motion on the Northern Edge of the Southern States

Driving to Winchester the other day Stravinsky’s Symphonies of Wind Instruments comes on the stereo as we head west into the sunset on 66 ready for the curve at the … Continue reading

January 13, 2018 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death –  He kindly stopped for me –  The Carriage held but just Ourselves –  And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put … Continue reading

January 11, 2018 · Leave a comment

Sam Hamill: Coming to It

A midnight cup of sake, a strange solitude. Is this all I’ve become?   Old and alone, bending over a poem written in loneliness by some old Chinese bag o’ … Continue reading

January 10, 2018 · 1 Comment

Claudia Nolan: Heard at a Funeral

  words were spoken, and underneath as though from distant ancestors the wail of yellow carnations impaled by long white pins on styrofoam hearts the rustling of roses an octave … Continue reading

January 9, 2018 · 2 Comments

Robert Gibb: After the Reading

White cups floating above the waters in their cut-glass vase, The tulips have finally opened, while beside her— Pittsburgh, winter—windows shimmer with freezing rain.   It’s the morning after the … Continue reading

January 8, 2018 · 3 Comments

Sandy Solomon: Demonstration, Summer 1992

Serbian men outside her house, her cousins shot, her sister raped repeatedly:  the woman from Kosovo told this story as she cupped a candle to shield its fuddled flame. Elbow … Continue reading

January 7, 2018 · 1 Comment

Judith Brice and Charles W. Brice: Two Winter Poems

. Today, Of White                                        After ‘Early Spring Thaw’ by Di Brandt   Today my bones shudder and shake— quake with the wanton cold of winter her snows of white … Continue reading

January 6, 2018 · Leave a comment

John Samuel Tieman: Tell Me

I thought there was a lesson in the river when the current is frozen we do know the ice just waits I want to know what you know about age … Continue reading

January 5, 2018 · Leave a comment