Jeffrey Harrison: Disconcerting
The word became the mantra of
her last few years, which were, in fact,
often disconcerting: her descent
into dementia, her cancer diagnosis,
her fall, her fractured hip.
Rachel Hadas: ‘Laugh right in its face’ – a poet reflects on her craft’s defiant role in the middle of a war
Poets write poetry to help them come to terms with the terror of their times. The process of writing those poems, and the process of reading them, both offer respite.
Richard Hoffman: The Road
the groves and orchards
poisoned, fathers and brothers tortured,
hope abandoned with the other heavy furniture
it isn’t much of a road, the future
Maryfrances Wagner: After Adopting Sylvie
reminds our rescued dog that once
she made her way on ditch water,
careless mice, and spilled trash
Walter Pavlich: In the Belly of the Ewe
And so he told us how he had been sown
into the belly of a ewe by his father
and a couple of uncles…
Sandy Solomon: Praying Mantis
Brown twig with a scored, russet skirt of wings,
you cling to the side of the garbage can
where the lid fits, and, except for a slight twitch
of your pointed mandible, hold wholly still.
Paul Christensen: Portrait of the Artist | James Dickey
He liked one phrase especially, “every word is a sunken Atlantis.” It said a lot about the way poetry functioned –every word in lyric was attached to a root mass of meanings, associations, feelings.
Video: My God, It’s Full of Stars | Tracy K. Smith
This short film adapts a poem by the former US Poet Laureate Tracy K Smith, whose father worked on the Hubble as one of NASA’s first Black engineers, with meticulously crafted visuals from the Brazilian animation director Daniel Brunson to create a wondrous ode to our desire to know the Universe.
Joan E. Bauer: La Lupa
Strange to feel so drawn these days to the She-Wolf,
the wild rose of Italian cinema.
Christina Rossetti: Up-Hill
Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
Glen Brown: Bubbie
I imagine her escaping Ukraine,
like a small bird
breaking formation over unfamiliar terrain
Alison Luterman: A Woman Speaks of Marriages
I’ve known marriages like Niagaras, that splashed and thundered,
whose couples careened down them bravely, wearing only barrels.
Alan Soldofsky: Late Days
smoke rises beside the freeway
from behind a construction site ringed by
encampments where the unhoused house themselves
under camo-colored tarps.
Margo Berdeshevsky: After Fado, At the Elgins
I’m weary of
celibacy he says, eyes on the Elgin Centaurs,
battling warrior-boys forever-father
