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Ashley M. Jones
A rose, single, silent, and soft, opens—
red petals tender, innocent, fragrant.
What beauty! How holy! Peace, unbroken
in the rose's solid stem.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 18, 2024
Timothy Michalik
Walking home I thought about saying
"when a person dies..."
but somebody already did.
Just a few days ago.
Personally it's more interesting
to live.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 17, 2024
Noah Arhm Choi
The only time my grandmother touched my mother
was praying over her womb, saying boy boy boy when really
she meant history history history. The only time
she brought her food was the red ginseng, the bitter melon
as if a full mouth always gives you what you want.
Everytime my mother tells my birth story it changes.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 16, 2024
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 15, 2024
Released from the bubble of voice, narrative, and image, words animate space differently—the degraded “open space, ” the space of the poem. They inhabit it, root, and evolve there. Perhaps they have always done so, they just needed to be freed from lineation and author/ity to make that clear. These are not my own words. They refuse ownership. You can read them any way you like.
Result Type
- What Sparks Poetry
Feature Date
- April 15, 2024
Joyelle McSweeney
i decide to buy the milk later in the day
to clear time to write and now all i think about is milk milk milk
i crawl all over the house looking for dirty bottles
rubber nipples and plastic collars
"like nebuchadnezzar"
i set em in the sink to further rot
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 14, 2024
Daniel Khalastchi
First it was the Realtor knocking
quick against our door asking when
we planned on leaving. Why would
we be leaving? we asked, and then
she pointed to the stain.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 13, 2024
Niels Hav (translated from the Danish by Per Brask & Patrick Friesen)
But here under the sink a time warp has been allowed
its hidden existence. Here is the wash tub with the floor cloth,
the plunger and a forgotten bit of caustic soda.
Here the spider moves about undisturbed.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 12, 2024
Willie Lin
I died in my sleep last night.
Against this, I ask you to imagine a birch branch.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 11, 2024
Valerie Witte
To make a strong skeleton reestablish the laminar, forestalling
breakdown, theoretically | She was starting to disappear
herself | a thing used to represent | erasure
when subverting anatomy |
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- April 10, 2024
