Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

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 10,000 email subscribers. Every day we publish a carefully curated selection of poetry, essays, videos, music and art. Our regular contributors include Naomi Shihab Nye, Stephen … 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

Stephen Dobyns: Tomatoes

A woman travels to Brazil for plastic surgery and a face-lift. She is sixty and has the usual desire to stay pretty. Once she is healed, she takes her new … Continue reading

May 1, 2018 · Leave a comment

Stephen Dobyns: Spider Web

There are stories that unwind themselves as simply as a ball of string. A man is on a plane between New York and Denver. He sees his life as moving … Continue reading

April 8, 2018 · 3 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Stars

The man took the wrong fork in the road. It was out in the country. They saw no signs. It was getting dark. They began to blame each other. Should … Continue reading

July 16, 2017 · 1 Comment

Stephen Dobyns: Ducks

For David Fenza Warm in my truck by the lighthouse at Watch Hill on a sunny morning in mid-winter, I observe the ducks bobbing among ice-covered rocks and think of … Continue reading

June 25, 2017 · 4 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Napatree Point

A mile from where I live is a beach where in winter I walk the dog, console myself with the ocean’s beauty and ponder the imponderables, like what to do … Continue reading

December 28, 2016 · 7 Comments

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