Poetry Editor Charlie Bondhus writes about poetry, problem-solving, and how writing well can help you become a better man.
We’ve been at it since November 2013, and now we’re saying goodnight.
“America is a code word – always has been.”
“leaves and bark framing both figures, /containing them in the comforting ruin /of assigned roles”
“Today he records himself /playing a game in which he is a Youtuber. /His game self records videos of gaming.”
“When the meaning of patriot changed for the worse /and the troops hadn’t returned, she took the yellow /ribbon off the door and the blue star from her window.”
“And like beer cans in a pack, like /the pence in Sing-a-Song Of…, like the senses (if you count /intuition) and the days of creation before rest, the syllables /I hear/don’t hear number six: You have always been loved.”
“a weekend of ocean smells, /loudmouths, their children’s cries /as sand castles shrink, tide rising.”
“I asked the man in sunglasses /Palming my summons /Could and would my parents be notified /Gaze downward the man /Mumbled something”
“Memory is /not a quiet door opening /but a slam that repeats /its shutting, /making everything smaller /till you are once more in a narrow room /without light /where no one can hear you.”
One year after Syrian forces declared victory in Aleppo, Adam Hughes reflects on the horrors the city has endured.
“I picture him digging in the garden, /his sweat muddying the thirsty soil.”
“Like that dog receiving /and only in the moment of receiving /feeling a reprieve from wanting.”
“The illusion of being intact is quite /astonishing, but a quick twist of my skeleton /key and the whole chassis springs open”
“I keep mum about my boyfriend /and forget Mom’s /mood swings & blood /on the carpeted floor.”
“What do you think it means? I ask. /It means you finally grow up, he says”