A man walks around with a bullet in his head in Gerald Yelle’s surreal yet oddly believable poem.
Josette Akresh-Gonzales’s Pushcart-nominated poem is one of mourning and celebration, in which “The front door is open for the ten /people who will say the kaddish with me. They don’t have to knock.”
As we approach World AIDS Day, John Whittier Treat’s call and response poem raises questions about the ways by which we commemorate.
Don Mathis reflects on memories all around.
Darius Stewart and his mother grieve the impending loss of a good man– “slugging our way /to the altar for grace, bartering for his life.”
A father’s voice resonates across years and divisions: “You won’t know /how or when you cross the border, /but just howl your name— /others will find you.”
Two years ago today, “The Imitation Game” came out in the UK. Dean Kostos’s sestina commemorating Turing’s brutal mistreatment at the hands of his government is disturbingly pertinent.
This is a time of introspection for many of us, when “thoughts paw and scratch” and “naming certain things is an infidelity.”
In case the election results make you want to ex-pat.
“Black men loving freely is like drinking warm peach juice”
To call this a Halloween poem would be too easy.
Riffing on a simple word creates a surprising, zen-like effect in Ben Berman’s poem.
“Echolocation,” “radar,” and a “council on the ecstatic.”
Marc Frazier reminds us of how easily marriage and family life can become perfunctory.
War touches even those who don’t see combat.
A sunset is a promise of rebirth, or salvation perhaps.