Poem A Day – Oct. 17, 2015
The Universe
Joshua Henry Jones Jr.
Count o’er the million leagues from here to yonder star.
On then. On to the next count of a million more.
Sum up the myriad gleams that light ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 16, 2015
Ode to an Encyclopedia
James Arthur
O hefty hardcover on the built-in shelf in my parents’ living room,
O authority stamped on linen paper, molted from your dust jacket,
Questing ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 14, 2015
Deer Ode, Tangled & Horned
Marcus Wicker
Always the sun first
then the doe sunning, the stag
running toward the doe, wherein
this ramshackle causality
a taste for flesh buds
at ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 13, 2015
the night begins with sugar
Natasha Saje
Salt Lake City
here in our state of yes and smug
crystalline over mountains and horizon melt
such pretty clouds such drifting light
who is it ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 12, 2015
On Speaking Quietly with My Brother
Jay Deshpande
You who threw the rock at the back of my head
as hard as you could at four because you thought
this was how to make a stone skip on ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 9, 2015
Hurricane Song
Kevin Young
Lady, won’t you wait
out the hurricane
all night at my place –
we’ll take cover like
the lamps & I’ll
let you oil
my scalp. Please, ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 6, 2015
Riding Alone for Thousands of Miles
Sally Wen Mao
In Lijiang, the sign outside your hostel
glares: Ride alone, ride alone, ride
alone – it taunts you for the mileage
of your solitude, ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 5, 2015
I Do
Sjohnna McCray
Driving the highway from Atlanta to Phoenix
means swapping one type of heat for another.
A bead of sweat rolls over my chest,
around my belly and evaporates
so quickly ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 4, 2015
That Music Always Round Me
Walt Whitman
That music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning, yet long untaught I did not
hear,
But now the chorus I hear and am elated,
A tenor, strong, ... Continue Reading →
Poem A Day – Oct. 3, 2015
Mowing
Robert Frost
There was never a sound beside the wood but one,
And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself;
Perhaps ... Continue Reading →
