Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Molly Fisk: She Lived to See

ate only bites but
always well: warm boysenberry pie,
bone broth matzoh ball soup

July 20, 2020 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: God Speaks to the Rope Swings of Summer

in his gentlest voice, reminding them
about change, about fallow fields and the quiet
everything needs to grow stronger

June 17, 2020 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: The Lineage

the poets, tethered to each other
in the popular mind as if we were one
big family and we are

April 6, 2020 · 8 Comments

Molly Fisk: Elegy (for Leah)

her infinite soprano
and my street drawl voicing words that could
depress a saint

March 9, 2020 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Firmament

Daylight and darkness are real, and seasons,
but everything else is a story…

December 2, 2019 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: That Kind of Woman

We try them on as subjects, our mythical forebears,
wondering who we are: Penelope. Persephone. Eve.
Eurydice. Sleeping Beauty, Cassandra, Ophelia, Cinderella.
Barbie.

August 12, 2019 · 2 Comments

Molly Fisk: The Fox Laughs at the Hounds

voices chorusing woods and fields, ringing
off the stone walls she runs beside, light
and fleet, silent as new snow falling through

July 3, 2019 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Orion Over Burning Man

Last night at dusk a log cabin rumbled past,
front porch with three rockers, gable window.

May 29, 2019 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Peace

One of those days when the grain of a wooden table
seems more certain, as if ordained, when gravity feels
like praise

May 8, 2019 · 2 Comments

Molly Fisk: Singing Canyon Sonnet

I have to say something about the blue grasses by the side of the road,  the red rock rising behind them, a lacy kind of scrub juniper,  yellow-green in afternoon … Continue reading

March 27, 2019 · Leave a comment

Lauren Camp: Exposure

After Ansel Adams’ “Moonrise Over Hernandez, New Mexico 1941″

February 4, 2019 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Desolation :: Reservation

Thousands of acres of parched ground. Dead sage, scattered shacks made from tin and rescued plywood, burned-out single-wides, pick-ups rusting in place where their engines stopped. No sign of life … Continue reading

November 26, 2018 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: Summer Lightning

In the morning while it’s still cool we hose down the yard, watch a red sun crest the ridge, haloed in wildfire smoke   that drifted 200 miles and stalled … Continue reading

September 10, 2018 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Cancer, again

this time a slow- growing rarity tracing delicate tendrils through kidney and liver, the lung’s sturdy wall, artery somewhere I can’t remember, though twice I’ve been told. How the mind … Continue reading

July 18, 2018 · 1 Comment

Enter your email address to follow Vox Populi and receive new posts by email.

Join 11,472 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 4,018,583 hits

Archives