In Pompeii we didn’t distinguish rats
from mice.
Poetry
Browse submissions from past editions, web exclusive content, author Q&A, and more.
graverobber’s ballad
bifurcating like a heart would/night scatters into pieces/reassembled like a girl should/be I tug the laces/of my boots and hold the shadows
‘Mollie & Lobo Wolf Girl’ & ‘Notes on the Tower’
you are always
walking me
into canyons
at dusk…
‘Song for My Daughter,’ ‘Song for My Son,’ & ‘Out of the Wood-‘
Because my bridegroom marked the trail
with ash
Because my father pushed me
down the path alone
Three Enter the Dark Wood
It’s the one about the bears and their blonde:
In their many beds I left many cells,
called my multiple personalities down
‘D’ & ‘G’
D is for dragon and damsel, diamond and diadem. For deciduous woods, their dropping leaves.
Winter Father Persimmon Sleep
as a child I couldn’t sleep
my parents tried ignoring me holding me
stroking fingers down my back
but still I cried into the winter nights
Elegy for a Child Trapped Underground
After the failed attempt to crawl up and out
the long neck of the well, I tried telling
forty seven tarnished pennies about you
Monster, a Meaning
Monstrum: a sign, a portent,
From the Latin, monere: to warm, from
the root men to think.
‘Sunday Queen’ & ‘Queen’s Mother’ & ‘Queen’s Eulogy for Uncle’
Queen is free as a mite
in the Lord’s mystical eyebrow,
growing ears for no reason.
