Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Stephen Dobyns: How to Like It

These are the first days of fall. The wind
at evening smells of roads still to be traveled,
while the sound of leaves blowing across the lawns
is like an unsettled feeling in the blood,
the desire to get in a car and just keep driving.

September 22, 2020 · Leave a comment

Stephen Dobyns: Fly

They can hide. What’s the point of hiding?
They can run. Why bother running?
They feel defeated by the world’s terrors.

June 2, 2020 · 4 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Laugh

What he wished was to have his ashes flushed
down the ladies’ room toilet of Syracuse City Hall,
which would so clog the pipes that the resulting
blast of glutinous broth would douse the place clean

April 30, 2020 · 4 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Scale

After that, he spots
specks of lint, dust motes that grow with his attention
so huge they change into solar systems with planets
where he might see cities, rooftops and, who knows,
even a man mowing a his lawn, if he had the time.

April 2, 2020 · Leave a comment

Vox Populi: An Interview With Our Editor

On Friday, we caught up with poet, blogger, editor and activist Michael Simms at his kitchen table where he was preparing his Saturday morning post for Vox Populi.

February 22, 2020 · 22 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Persephone, Etc.

Wasn’t it beneath this spot the son of Kronos
pursued his inamorata, holding out a handful
of shining seeds?

February 11, 2020 · 1 Comment

Stephen Dobyns: Stories

All stories, as they reach their end, are sad.
The rain comes; the night falls; Malone dies alone.

January 12, 2020 · 4 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: The Poet’s Disregard

He ponders composing an ode
to his long time sidekick Death, but as his
own departure draws near their friendship
has grown problematic.

December 8, 2019 · 2 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: No Map

To neither did I say how much
I loved them, nor express the extent of my fear.
Their bodies are delicate glass boxes
at which the world begins to fling its stones.

October 27, 2019 · Leave a comment

Stephen Dobyns: Santiago in Winter

He is gone now, the blind man, tidily dressed
in a suit of dust, with a dusty tie and dark glasses,
who played the clarinet on Paseo Huerfanos,
the paseo of the orphanage…

September 8, 2019 · 2 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: The Gardener

And he had imagined sitting in the evening
with his friend the Devil watching the small
human creatures frolic in the grass. They would
be like children, good natured and always singing.
When had he realized his mistake?

January 20, 2019 · Leave a comment

Thank you for subscribing to Vox Populi

Vox Populi now has almost 11,000 email subscribers. Every day we publish a carefully curated selection of poetry, essays, videos, music and art. Our regular contributors include Naomi Shihab Nye, … Continue reading

October 27, 2018 · 30 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Pursuit

Each thing I do I rush through so I can do something else. In such a way do the days pass— a blend of stock car racing and the never … Continue reading

June 12, 2018 · Leave a comment

Stephen Dobyns: My Town

This happens occasionally in my town. Maybe it’s a sort of nervousness or hysteria, even displaced fervor, as if fervor were a kind of cloud or the fog that rolls … Continue reading

May 16, 2018 · 1 Comment

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