Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Robert Wrigley: Taking Care

Tornillo, Texas   It must be assumed that the caretakers— if that’s what they are called and not guards— are kind.  If not parents then parental in appropriately incarcerative ways. … Continue reading

November 28, 2018 · 3 Comments

Jose Padua: Meditation on a Creator of Sorts Written While Eating Sweet Confections in the Rain

The moment feels half decadent and half desperate, these sugared minutes spent barely sheltered from the wetness of the storm, within earshot of the noise of thunder and as close … Continue reading

November 27, 2018 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Desolation :: Reservation

Thousands of acres of parched ground. Dead sage, scattered shacks made from tin and rescued plywood, burned-out single-wides, pick-ups rusting in place where their engines stopped. No sign of life … Continue reading

November 26, 2018 · 1 Comment

Video: Afterword (From the Ashes of a Love Story)

From the Ashes of a Love Story: Approaching the microphone in a small room, a young woman prepares to make the speech of her life. Desperate to find her voice in … Continue reading

November 25, 2018 · Leave a comment

Carolyn Gregory: Surrounded by Atheists

For years, I listened to their prattle about secular humanism and “the big picture”,   listened to their arguments about how the holocaust certainly suggests that God had died or … Continue reading

November 24, 2018 · Leave a comment

Edgar Gabriel Silex: The Planting of the Blue Corn

after the fields are planted and the blue corn seeds are nestled in the red earth     after the Corn Planter has put away his sacred planting stick he says … Continue reading

November 23, 2018 · Leave a comment

Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving today.  Soaked with sleet. No sun for six days — six is the Devil’s number. I have looked through this window, at these American skies for 5 times 6 … Continue reading

November 22, 2018 · 4 Comments

Juniper White: Erato

Meet me in the white space between the words, where the language of tongues has no boundary, and end sheets frame the rooting around. We’ll dance the iambic dance, frolic … Continue reading

November 21, 2018 · Leave a comment

Michael T. Young: Scrawl

He likes to repeat to himself a phrase from a Keats letter: I will clamber through the clouds and exist. It steadies him like leaning against trees, or brewing coffee … Continue reading

November 20, 2018 · Leave a comment

Elizabeth Jacobson: The Cows

Now that I have read this story about the cows I think of them at night when I cannot sleep, how they are so still in their grassy field, seemingly … Continue reading

November 19, 2018 · Leave a comment

Judith A. Brice: I Want to Go Back

I want to go back to my youth again where all is in my realm, even good health, a new young boy and soccer games to watch— where I can … Continue reading

November 17, 2018 · 4 Comments

Dorothy Wordsworth: The moon had the old moon in her arms

The columbine … is a graceful slender creature, a female seeking retirement, and growing freest and most graceful where it is most alone. I observed that the more shaded plants … Continue reading

November 16, 2018 · Leave a comment

Buddha Shakyamuni: Leadership

When animals are crossing a ford, if the one in front goes crookedly, all the others go crookedly. So too, among human beings, when the leader behaves unrighteously, other people … Continue reading

November 15, 2018 · 4 Comments

Sam Hamill: In the Company of Ancient Masters

It is autumn in the autumn of my life. I sit on my deck in the evening light and watch a slow boat pass by.   Tonight, a woman I … Continue reading

November 15, 2018 · Leave a comment

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