Poetry
Poem of the Week
Empty is a strange destination, like arriving at the end of the party.
iPoems
Always I obliged the urban tree, any speechless unblessed nature.
Poetry
At the memorial service, I could barely hear the student read.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
I want to be bright scarves, soft rain, seabirds pecking at receipts.
Poetry
Here is my aphorism of the day: Happy people are monogamous.
Poetry Contest Winners
Death is a lack, I suppose, and love more so. But I will not falter.
Poem of the Week
They taught us do not touch it, but who can keep from touching it?
Poem of the Week
…when you walk to the edge of the Mekong and make a wish…
Poem of the Week
You walk and the world bends toward you like leaves waiting for rain.
Poem of the Week
The towns died as quickly as a single house, a house like ours, lit gold within.
Poem of the Week
I’m mourning in the armpits of a lover we once called a family friend.
Poem of the Week
We will use my entire bed and all my dishes, make dirty each chair.
Poem of the Week
We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.
Poetry
The hound, the leash, the fence, the hens. So many of them.
Poem of the Week
I’m happy in the unmapped landscape inside the bottle.
Poem of the Week
My relationship with god resembled that of a prisoner and firing squad.
Poem of the Week
This is the day when the saints all go silently to church in France.
Poem of the Week
Snows piling in his crying mouth. Cold gave him a light complexion.
Poetry
I couldn’t love the tree in every soul shouldering its own tiny autumn.
Poem of the Week
Alva knows the storm is coming. The ground is falling away.
Poem of the Week
Desperately, children: I am in desperate need for desperate need.
Poem of the Week
She countered the reverence of his efforts stroke by stroke, tit for tat.
Poetry Contest Winners
Water the boxed dirt, and up she’ll push, rising in red-streaked blossoms.
Poem of the Week
My father made me watch softball on ESPN 2 to help me stay alive.
Poem of the Week
If everyone’s lost on the roads, you might as well fly. Enjoy your life.
Poem of the Week
I stand within her walls with not a shred of terror, not a word of jeer.
Poem of the Week
Lost land, this is a song for the scars on your back, for your blistered feet.
Poetry
Refuge, Your church is often a house. Your Word is a house.
Poetry
Waiting for a cure, waiting for the closeout sale, the black sail.
