Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature: over 400,000 monthly users

Molly Fisk: Phil, Who Loved the Giants

The bra I took off at 4:45 through the sleeve of my dress
and put down somewhere I find on my grandmother’s hutch
in the kitchen, incongruous, surrounded by jars of jam

June 7, 2021 · 1 Comment

Molly Fisk: You and I

the whole country snarled into such a hot mess
you wouldn’t recognize democracy if she
removed her skirts and danced on your lap for free,
pretending to like you.

May 10, 2021 · 3 Comments

Molly Fisk: How to Stop

It depends on the way you were broken:
Body from soul? Mind from memory?

April 12, 2021 · Leave a comment

Molly Fisk: Native Landscape

Back then, the new growth on redwoods was the brightest
green and tasted of citrus, a good vitamin source if you were lost
in the woods, which I wasn’t, I was pure found girl skipping…

October 19, 2020 · 1 Comment

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

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

Join 12,141 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 4,314,755 hits

Archives