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Mariana Berenice Bredow Vargas (translated from the Spanish by Forrest Gander)
we barely know, who hardly matter to us,
words that only hide us from sorrow, forgive me
for saying so, but facing death, there’s just no place
for dissimulation, and I can’t imagine what...
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- June 3, 2023
Katie Farris
The waiting, sleek as otters, slips
between your lips.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- June 2, 2023
tatiana nascimento (translated from the Portuguese by Natália Affonso)
planning the end of the world, to me,
is an Afro-diasporic longing for
night becoming day
on the roof of your mouth,
word
apocalypse.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- June 1, 2023
Robert Wood Lynn
memory for continuing to be the past
with a leak in it somehow I love you
a little better every day surprised by it
each morning the way I am always
surprised by how goats make the sound
of drunks making goat noises
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 31, 2023
Kim Hyesoon (translated from the Korean by Don Mee Choi)
The inside is life and the outside is death
Life is a sealed bag
I think that the guardrail bed
is flying away...
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 30, 2023
M. L. Smoker
All that was left were the springtime faces of mountains, gazing down,
their last patches of snow, luminous. I dreamed of becoming snow melt,
gliding down the slope of history and into the valley. With the promise,
an assurance, that there is always a way to become bird, tree, water again.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 29, 2023
But this poem is not just about loss. It is a recognition as well of what can happen when we press ourselves to the earth, feel the pulses of energy, and realize our stories remain tethered. As Indigenous peoples, our ancestors are now a part of that land — it is where our languages, oral traditions, songs and ways of being have been formed, and we must find ways to carry on this necessary kinship. It is vital to us all.
Result Type
- What Sparks Poetry
Feature Date
- May 29, 2023
Marie-Andrée Gill (translated from the French by Kristen Renee Miller)
if you are looking for me, I am home
or somewhere on Nitassinan;
all my doors and windows are open.
I’m heating the outdoors.
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 28, 2023
Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe
for me to be a real
Indian
like the ones in the movies
I was going to need
to buy a pony...
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 27, 2023
Michael Farrell
He lived before there was an air index
He chopped up Latin like a pickled vegetable
When he walked under a bird they stopped singing
like a light...
Result Type
- Poem
Feature Date
- May 26, 2023
