Vox Populi

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

Laura McCullough: Hero With Only One Face 

He tells me in his diminishing days, death not yet active,
but clearly begun, about his siblings, family shufflings,
foster homes, the orphanage. Who said they would
but then could not, who promised this & forgot that

January 30, 2023 · 3 Comments

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: An Open Thank You Letter to Kristen Who Works at the Cemetery

There are moments so flooded with tenderness
every wall around our heart collapses
from the beauty of it

January 4, 2023 · 20 Comments

Gary Fincke: A Murder of Crows

Driving home, I see all of them
By the highway, pecking at
Whatever is splayed out and torn

December 8, 2022 · Leave a comment

Wayne Karlin: Butch in Autumn

Run ahead again,
old friend,
I’ll catch up with you later.

December 6, 2022 · 13 Comments

Arlene Weiner: Pinky

Last week I took a shovel from a prepared heap,
scooped earth easily, turned, threw it
onto your coffin, plain pine.

December 3, 2022 · 5 Comments

Elizabeth Gargano: Why We Should Try Talking to the Dead

After my father’s death, my mother kept talking to him.

November 18, 2022 · 8 Comments

Elizabeth Romero: The Next Big Thing

Oh, beautiful death from the sky!
Please, do not strike me
Or my dark tree.

November 16, 2022 · 3 Comments

Paul Christensen: The Journey We All Must Take

When you’re a knee-scabbed, scruffy looking kid, a tree-climbing ruffian hanging from the neighbor’s crab apple tree and running away from some irate neighbor after soaping up his car windshield, on Halloween, you don’t know it but you are the unacknowledged expert of what it means to be living in your pre-pubescent body.

November 13, 2022 · 3 Comments

Tony Gloeggler: Social Story

how happy and lucky
it made us feel to know
we had someone we loved
who loved us back

November 1, 2022 · 8 Comments

Video: The Beetle at the End of the Street

In this Fellini-esque comedy, a psychic fishmonger foresees Amadeo’s death, so his fellow villagers rally to give him the best final seven days for which one could ask.

October 16, 2022 · 4 Comments

Bruce Lowry: Just Long Enough

My desire is only this—to die someplace the earth made beautiful all on its own, the way a first-grader makes the morning glory out of construction paper and Elmer’s glue, … Continue reading

September 29, 2022 · 10 Comments

Adrienne Maree Brown: Breaking is part of healing

I was in a conversation recently with a friend who had just returned from a meditation retreat. She said one of the ideas shared with her group was that “the teacup is already broken,” a meditation on how the death or ending or brokenness we fear is inevitable.

September 6, 2022 · 7 Comments

Rupert Brooke: The Fish

O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise

September 2, 2022 · 8 Comments

Doug Anderson: We Get Old, We Get Sick

How we stumble, are glib
in the face of our fear
when we might show
our own raw heart

August 4, 2022 · Leave a comment

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