Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Eva-Maria Simms, Michael Simms: Translating Rilke

Every thing is protected
by a grace ready for flight,
every stone and flower
every child at night.

December 6, 2019 · 2 Comments

Michael Simms: Antbed

You may remember my father
died when I was eight
my mother closed up
the house and we went to stay
with my grandmother for a few months

November 17, 2019 · 6 Comments

Michael Simms: Who Will Tell Them?

Goodbye elephant bird
Who frightened Sinbad.
Goodbye wigeon,
Curleau, lapwing, crake.
Goodbye mascarene coot.
Sorry we never had a chance to meet.

November 9, 2019 · 11 Comments

César Vallejo: Black Stone on a White Stone

I will die in Paris on a rainy day,
a day I can already remember.

November 1, 2019 · Leave a comment

Thomas Sayers Ellis: All Their Stanzas Look Alike

All their Selected Collecteds
All their Oxford Nortons
All their Academy Societies
All their Oprah Vendlers
All their stanzas look alike

October 29, 2019 · Leave a comment

Michael Simms: Love

When I was a child, my mother told me
God has many faces
And She reveals Herself
In many ways.

October 13, 2019 · 20 Comments

Rainer Maria Rilke: Archaic Torso of Apollo

there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.

October 6, 2019 · Leave a comment

Michael Simms: Dogsbody to the Muse

Sometimes it’s painful to watch a group of poets trying to work a room as if they were politicians. The AWP conference, as the wag put it, is comprised of 15,000 introverts pretending to be extroverts.

August 25, 2019 · 12 Comments

Michael Simms: On the Spectrum with Garrison Keillor

Many of the issues people have had with Keillor’s behavior through the years may have been caused by his autism.

August 11, 2019 · 19 Comments

Lynn Emanuel: Some Notes on Intoxication and Simile

If my mother had not been an alcoholic, I might not have been a poet.

June 23, 2019 · 1 Comment

Michael Simms: Our Father who art in flowers

Our Father who art in me
You are the One I love
The One who hurt me
The One who seeks the truth

June 16, 2019 · 5 Comments

Michael Simms: The Parliament of Trees

The next morning I rode my bicycle to Wolf Corner where coyotes and dogs were
Hung on a wooden rack to discourage coyotes

June 6, 2019 · 7 Comments

Michael Simms: Blurbing Jose

Jose Padua’s poems are the twitch of the tail of the cat stalking the mouse of your unconscious.

February 23, 2019 · 11 Comments

Tales of the Holy Man

Word spread across the countryside about the wise Holy Man who lived in a small house atop the mountain. A man from the village decided to make the long and … Continue reading

December 16, 2018 · 2 Comments

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