Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Paul Hostovsky: Wincing at the Beautiful

So my friend Phil is telling me how
he can’t get a date
how he loves women and how
they’re always giving him looks
so I ask him what kind of looks

February 13, 2021 · 2 Comments

Kenneth Fearing: LOVE, 20 Cents The First Quarter Mile

I forgive you for being beautiful and generous and wise.
I forgive you, to put it simply, for being alive, and pardon you, in short, for being you.

February 12, 2021 · 4 Comments

Elizabeth Romero: What My Mother Said

think of my love
as a red glass button
hanging on a threadbare dress

February 12, 2021 · 2 Comments

Scott Silsbe: She Got My Mind Messed Up

Is something burning? Is something here
on fire? It smells like something here is
burning or on fire. It might be in my head.

February 11, 2021 · 5 Comments

BJ Ward: In Memoriam | The Victims of the Bowling Green Massacre

Here’s to the blood that wasn’t shed,
That still courses through hearts and
untroubled heads—

February 9, 2021 · 1 Comment

Rachel Hadas: Trying to Get to School

But making my way from A to B
could not be managed easily.
Locked courtyard, blocked alleys, a high wall –
I had to cross or climb them all.

February 8, 2021 · 1 Comment

Video: Joe Biden and Elizabeth Alexander discuss “Those Winter Sundays” by Robert Hayden

President-elect Joe Biden, poet Elizabeth Alexander, psychologist Angela Duckworth, and a chorus of working fathers and sons join Poetry in America host Elisa New to reflect on Robert Hayden’s sonnet “Those Winter Sundays.”

February 7, 2021 · 4 Comments

Vox Populi: A note from the editor

Please forgive this blatant self-promotion, but I want to share with you a link to a review of my new collection of poems American Ash in the highly regarded and popular magazine Cultural Weekly, curated by Alexis Rhone Fancher.

February 6, 2021 · 20 Comments

Hayden Saunier: How I Suit Up for Winter Storms

Boots from my son’s eighth grade year,
outgrown far faster than the heart-deep
humiliations he bore for being gay
that I could not protect him from.

February 6, 2021 · 6 Comments

William Stafford: Traveling through the Dark

Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.

February 5, 2021 · 3 Comments

Sandy Solomon: In Deepest February

The heavy snow has split the oak out front,
its right branch lodges in a parked car’s roof
and splays across the windshield and the hood.

February 4, 2021 · 3 Comments

Martina Reisz Newberry: Romans

We will look back at the last of the sunflowers leaning so low, and we’ll recall the “end times,” swooning at the way the brown sky infiltrated houses

February 3, 2021 · 2 Comments

Leslie Anne Mcilroy: Call Back

The pink half-gown is tied wrong.
I can’t figure out the strings.
My nipples are hard in the
fluorescent waiting room.

February 2, 2021 · 5 Comments

Mike James: Trying to Pray

Some nights I dream of hands holding water
Some nights they are a man’s hands
Some nights a woman’s

February 1, 2021 · 2 Comments

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