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Category: Poetry

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Anatomy of a sane girl

Let her suck air through her teeth first, anticipating
the beginning of pulling the meat.

by Angélica María Vielma on September 26, 2016

Carmen in the Sunset

Sitting on the veranda with her coffee cup, Her grey hair braided up,
The lonely lady Carmen turns her eyes up

by Oscar Mahoney on September 26, 2016

“Brecht in Southampton – Personal Pleasures”

Morning at the coffeeshop Cheating traffic, the back-roads White clouds, the pale sky Parking near water, a book Midday at the bay, the breeze Water on your feet and scallop shells My sister’s laughter—baby mischief, feeling glad Scanning the view, … Read More

by Oscar Mahoney on August 10, 2016

I can see the neighbors

from here, leaning out       beyond their yard. They are fence-prone and rubber-necked. Looking in, maybe. I sense a vulturish curiosity and sink back.   Meanwhile, my dad has fallen asleep on the couch.   He is darker … Read More

by Crystal Liu on August 10, 2016

Overheard, Prospect Ave

Giving out extra passes is like donating to the Salvation Army Like giving away Gucci and Vineyard Vines, pink ties with whale print from J.McLaughlin —I won’t miss any of these items at the TI/Ivy Olympics, Before I have tenure … Read More

by Nicolette D’Angelo on April 24, 2016

Sprinkles

The construction guys are wearing neon hoodies and eating grilled cheese sandwiches, Sprinkled across the lawn like lobster buoys — “Confetti thrown from heaven,” you’d call them When I was on the boat and couldn’t sleep. If I went back … Read More

by Anonymous on April 24, 2016

Rememory

When the sodium lamps evaporate their tired stock, I wonder if walking home at night in the rain will still be such an ageless pleasure, a simple joy to watch you stagger up cement sidewalks, ringed in a corona of … Read More

by Zach Cohen on April 16, 2016April 17, 2016

Geography Lesson

If the Atlantic Ocean has seen my breasts, held them for an evening in the dark, full night, did he tell anyone? If sky observed, unfurled her firmaments? If the arc of my neck meant anything [to him], cradled in … Read More

by Rachel Stone on April 10, 2016April 9, 2016

Poem for Tim Faust, who said that poems shouldn’t be about flowers

This poem not about flowers just goes to show how far we’ve come since the days when people could practically not think without a daffodil, when in poetry a rose was not yet just a rose but always stood for … Read More

by Anonymous on April 10, 2016April 9, 2016

For a COS Major

I am 1, she is 0, and maybe that’s all there is.

by Anonymous on April 3, 2016July 20, 2017

Soap Poem

found an old bar of yr soap in the bathroom closet more like i found it in the store (amazon) n bought it n brought it home n bathed myself w it n had a v v emotional time ie … Read More

by Samuel Bollen on April 3, 2016July 20, 2017

Rothko

i remember the anguish of space— standing half a step too close to you under the copper light of streetlamps,   with every word and gesture, feeling surprised by how my hands would strain against their own skin to touch … Read More

by Crystal Liu on April 3, 2016April 2, 2016


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