Poem of the Day: Louise Mathias

  PRONE, NOVEMBER   Just your slow, pink movements near the doorway. If there were fields, they’d long ago rolled back in agate bliss. Until you were indelible, a dahlia. Bale of hay, almost made for a woman bent over. Her pale sweet hedging (which, in certain landscapes, is an early form of love. )…

Share
Read More

Poem of the Day: Clayton T. Michaels

  PRECIOUS   Bring me sackcloth and oleander. Break out the shotguns.            We’re going to town. Changes in the weather tracked on smoke-streaked yellowed windows             via crosshatches thumbnail-                            scratched into their…

Share
Read More

Poem of the Day: Lisa Nanette Allender

  L.V. WOMEN   The Women wear their hair like a blonde ballet trained to perform each golden strand sun-bleached and chemical-precision, in perfect position. The women wear their skin unnaturally tight dry and porous like the concrete surrounds, pneumatic-pillow breasts under their gowns. The women wear their men on their arms never hand-in-hand, old…

Share
Read More

Poem of the Day: Michalle Gould

  WHEN I WAS NAKED   I was the sturdy bowl of plums half-buried in snow outside the artist’s studio. He paints the shades of purple reflected in condensed water on my skin. I was the snowy hill topped by a nun’s black habit, a fall of dark hair descending to wintry shoulders, an infinite…

Share
Read More