Elizabeth Jacobson: Love, I Am
what am I
to myself:
two feet on
some land
when upright
Baron Wormser: The Missing Poet
Reasons abound for Republicans to not think twice or to dismiss poetry as elitist or more identity politics or whatever pejorative comes to mind. Much more important work is waiting– or so we are told.
Ma Yongbo: Train to the Snow Country
This is a journey without an end,
Who can tell you what to do
After the fairy tale ends?
Sandy Solomon: After Kahlo
We hid in a big wardrobe to sing
songs praising Zapata, our voices
joined, the air smelling of walnut.
Lisa Zimmerman: Thinking About Dean Young and the Anthropocene & Another Country
I’m doing my best, balancing hope on the head of a pin,
following those other steadfast travelers exiting the shop, holding
their buzzing phones, their many cups of Joe.
Charles Reznikoff: Te Deum
Not for victory
but for the day’s work done
as well as I was able;
not for a seat upon the dais
but at the common table.
James Crews: After the Blizzard & Sunflower
…awe will follow you from now on
wherever you go, like the snow-light
that fills these rooms
Barbara Crooker: Late Painters | Matisse
When his hands could no longer hold a brush,
Matisse turned to paper and scissors, “painting”
with cold metal carving heavy gouache
shearing shallow reliefs.
Thomas McGuire: Grief Observed
A host of magpie kith and kin come
Back to tend and keen the fallen.
Alexis Rhone Fancher: Stages of Grief
17 years since my son’s death, and still, each night when my husband drifts off, I watch movies, write, or read. Anything to stay awake.
Ellery Akers: After the Election
Beautiful wreckage of my country, I’m still trying to love you.
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Postcard From The After Life
At the Saturday Pearly Balls, I conga
to the karaokes of yokels, popes, madams
& Nobels. No one wears a watch, no strike
of midnight to worry about. I’ve read all
the books & let go of the past — at last.
Video: Do You Want To Go Down This Way, Or Go Back The Way We Came?
A new film elegy by Bryan Konefsky that uses the lens of loss and grief to explore intersections between memory and artifact.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: Talking with My Daughter about Grief
We lie in the dark
and speak about anything
but what I ache to speak about.
