Thomas Sayers Ellis: Godzilla’s Avocado
An artichoke’s heart does not pump ketchup.
It pumps pesto,
oily, olive clots of guacamole.
Louie Skipper: Staying put, the contented man looks inward
A poem in my own hand
that goes on without my help or knowledge.
Iman Chahine Sharba: God of Dreams
God passed away empty handed
But with regret
And like a sly boy
Broke with his shoe
the last dry loaf of bread.
Lindsey Royce: Things I Didn’t Know I Loved
These actual things
allow me to relive the velocity
with which I’ve learned I love him…
Peter Makuck: Grackles
But after a few minutes
they become bold and
like dark thoughts
return
Sally Bliumis-Dunn : Echolocation
I saw one once—heaved onto the sand with kelp
stuck to its blue-gray skin.
Heavy and immobile,
it lay like a great sadness.
Video: Patti Smith sings “The Tyger” by William Blake
Through song and story, Patti Smith gives us new insight into the transcendent genius of William Blake.
Sarah Gordon: Acta Sanctorum
Aldhelm danced like a clown in the public square,
to win hearts, then souls, he said, and we love him
for that impish joy, that easy surrender
Muhammad Aurangzeb Ahmad: The Muslim tradition of sci-fi and speculative fiction
The short story ‘Sultana’s Dream’ (1905) by Rokeya Sakhawat Hussain, a Bengali writer and activist, takes place in the mythical realm of Ladyland. Gender roles are reversed and the world is run by women, following a revolution in which women used their scientific prowess to overpower men.
Video: A Love Poem for Lonely Prime Numbers
Performance poet (and math student) Harry Baker spins a love poem about his favorite kind of numbers — the lonely, love-lorn prime. He also has a complaint about Paper People. Here are two lively, inspiring poems from this charming performer.
James Wright: Northern Pike
We prayed for the game warden’s blindness.
We prayed for the road home.
We ate the fish.
Jason Irwin: Monster
On rainy nights when the roof leaked,
when the bills piled up, nights I lay in the hospital
waiting for X-rays or surgery
the monster’s shadow stained the walls.
Luray Gross: Fox Follows
At noon, fox lolls in the sun
rises and trots, pausing now and then
to look my way.
Majid Naficy: George Habash Sandwich
We returned from a Trump protest
And wanted to walk in Golden Gate Park.
We stopped at a sandwich shop
Which smelled like Tehran.
