Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Majid Naficy: Sweet Accent

I like the sweet accent
Heard on the stairs this morning:
Persian with a hint of American.

April 16, 2019 · Leave a comment

Al Maginnes: The Book of Forgetting

By now she’s tired of stories spotlighting her early deeds, actions too endearing to be plotted, or the years before she came, blanks of time distant as fires in the … Continue reading

August 14, 2018 · Leave a comment

Andrea Hollander: Betrayals

At least my father did not betray anyone. It was the plaque in his brain that betrayed him.   As for my ex—well, time passes, and I see how some … Continue reading

July 30, 2018 · 10 Comments

Philip F. Clark: The Fathers

I steadied you in the bathroom as you pissed, drunk and shaking. I was the only one who would make sure you didn’t fall. You kept talking about the friends … Continue reading

July 17, 2018 · Leave a comment

Elizabeth Kirschner: The Story of Benjamin

Early July, ninety degrees in the shade and me in the crook of my mother’s arms. She has her movie star sunglasses on, purple cat-eye glasses with iris-tinted lenses.      … Continue reading

July 15, 2018 · 1 Comment

Michael Simms: Names

Lea wants to change her name to Tina. Her mother says she must think very carefully because a name has to fit. The wrong name can bind like someone else’s … Continue reading

June 16, 2018 · 7 Comments

Video: Galway Kinnell Reads “After Making Love We Hear Footsteps”

  .   ‘Galway Kinnell was inarguably a great poet. Among the subjects he was best at were steadfastness in marriage and parenthood. In his famous poem “After Making Love … Continue reading

December 16, 2017 · Leave a comment

Fred Shaw: The Toolbox

I search for the red-handled Phillips-head among the clutter of Dad’s Air Force toolbox; the obsolete, English-sized wrenches, the vise-grips and channel locks looking to grasp smooth shouldered bolts with … Continue reading

December 8, 2017 · 1 Comment

Michael Simms: The Summer You Learned to Swim

for Lea The summer you learned to swim was the summer I learned to be at peace with myself. In May you were afraid to put your face in the … Continue reading

July 25, 2017 · 8 Comments

Jose Padua: Jump

I’m five, in 1962, jumping over and over from the sofa to the rug in our apartment on the second floor at 19th and S Street, jumping to the orchestral … Continue reading

November 30, 2014 · 1 Comment

Jose Padua: Baltimore

I realize I quote her as often as Allen Ginsberg quoted Jack Kerouac, but when she was three my daughter said, “It’s not crazy—it’s Baltimore,” then proceeded to improvise better … Continue reading

November 15, 2014 · 2 Comments

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