Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature. Over 15,000 daily subscribers. Over 6,000 archived posts.

Lisa Zimmerman: Missing Billy

You wore sobriety like a t-shirt
with the sleeves hacked off.

January 16, 2023 · 19 Comments

Chard deNiord: See How Brightly The Leaves Fall With Grief

How long then short the days grow across the Earth.

January 15, 2023 · 8 Comments

Michael Simms: Sacred Sleep

My sleep is punctuated with terror
and excursions into weirdness,
and I usually wake in the dark hours

January 14, 2023 · 40 Comments

Bhikshuni Vasetthi: Oh, My Heart

I called out to my grief and drew it toward me.
I held my grief and gently rocked it.
Shh, I said. There, there. There, there.

January 13, 2023 · 4 Comments

Doug Anderson: Ghost

The old man finally just went away
to live in the mountains. Two goats,
a dog for company. The wind
made a harp of the pines.

January 12, 2023 · 11 Comments

Charlie Amáyá Scott: Beyond the Binary | Retelling the Diné Creation Story

I have spent years learning and unlearning what it means to be Diné and to be Queer and to be Trans in this world—this world that denied me First Woman’s gift. Now I am reclaiming this gift.

January 12, 2023 · Leave a comment

Baron Wormser: Remembering the Alchemists & Other Essays 

One sentence speaks for all his direct, well-wrought sentences: “We are inside the largest militarist society the world has ever known, and we are at war always.”

January 11, 2023 · 1 Comment

Cynthia Atkins: Apocalypse in Twitter-Verse 

Is that, finally, 
the ache we shed with the last breath. —
Fogged faces passing on a train, trees 
and smoke and hills.

January 11, 2023 · 6 Comments

Peter Makuck: Winter Morning

At the window,
coffee in hand,
I’m just in time to see
a painted bunting
settle on the porch feeder.

January 10, 2023 · 4 Comments

Patricia Jabbeh Wesley: When Monrovia Rises

All day, boys younger
than history can remember, shout at one another
on a street corner near me about a country they
have never seen.

January 9, 2023 · 5 Comments

Larry Levis | At the Grave of My Guardian Angel: St. Louis Cemetery, New Orleans

And without beauty, Bakunin will go on making his forlorn & unreliable little bombs in the cold, & Oswald will adjust   
The lenses on the scope of his rifle, the one
Friend he has carried with him all the way out of his childhood,
The silent wood of its stock as musical to him in its grain as any violin.

January 8, 2023 · 12 Comments

Barbara Hamby: Ode to Forgetting the Year

remember the day at the beach when the sun
began to explain Heidegger to you while thunderclouds
rumbled up from the horizon like Nazi submarines?

January 7, 2023 · 12 Comments

D.H. Lawrence: Piano

Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano

January 6, 2023 · 12 Comments

Edison Jennings: Old Times There Are Not Forgotten

A student at Patrick Henry High, Oakum
asserted he didn’t give a shit about Marse Robert,
Stonewall Jackson, Beaux Beauregard, or any
of them fancy Southern boys

January 5, 2023 · 5 Comments

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