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Category: Poetry

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Martinus Young, I had a crush on you when I was five.

“A quotidian damage. Consolidating into a tiny scar; a crescent moon./Now, that’s the only trace I have left of you, Martinus Young.”

by Mariachiara Ficarelli on April 29, 2018April 29, 2018

Stages of Departure

“What do you do when you suspect
that you’ve unleashed the atom bomb of the Universe”

by Zach Cohen on October 1, 2017September 30, 2017

october

“I see the act of painting now, and / It is still too fast.”

by Richard Ma on November 24, 2019November 24, 2019

Persimmons of another tree: a transfem’s song of love and rejuvenation

“When I say room I mean this space that contains me. / When I say this space that contains me I mean I fill this space. / When I say I fill this space I mean this space is my body.”

by Sophie Lockwood on March 27, 2022March 27, 2022

Prufrock’s Letters

Mente mia, che presaga de’ tuoi damni, Al tempo lieto già pensosa e trista, Sí ‘ntentamente ne l’amata vista Requie cercavi de’ futuri afanni   1. Let us go now, til it be that all you and I can see … Read More

by Daniel Viorica on March 5, 2023

Eliot in Love

“Despite being intended to clear his name, the response instead came off as spiteful and cruel. It did little to save his reputation, especially since his letters tell another story.”

by Mina Quesen on April 12, 2020June 30, 2020

Vigil

“I watch what hovers like genie smoke – the grief –/near ancient tombs of white marble with grey veins,/or gravestones on a desert hill,/images that filter vaguely out of the words we use to mourn./Are you awake?”

by Tess Solomon on November 17, 2018November 17, 2018

Displaced

“To erase the blankness, / masked the cleaner’s sting / with lavender and sage, / found places for my mother’s / good omens”

by Mina Quesen on October 4, 2020October 3, 2020

Puppy Videos

I’m all about puppies during finals because I never feel like less of human than when I have written the phrase “sociopolitical framework” and wondered whether what I meant was actually “geopolitical,”

by Susannah Sharpless on February 14, 2015February 16, 2015

A Haibun for our Fallen Leaves

“Short breaths are suspended like smoke, naked against the frail air.”

by Olivia Roslansky on November 13, 2022November 14, 2022

The Todras Gorge

It stands, cavernous;

by Alexandria Herr on April 4, 2015

Crook

After Robert Frost

by Lily Hutcheson on February 21, 2025February 21, 2025


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