Poetry

Geese

Robert Travers  

That day the sun rose as if
it was the most natural thing
in the world; as if the long lake
glaciers had dug in the hard

Over and Above

Jennifer Grotz  

Because I didn’t want it to end, 
and because I was all alone again,
because in those seasons attention 
was my only form of prayer, 
I attended the summer rain. 

I dreamt of you

Iman Mersal, translated by Robyn Creswell  

Where did he go?

Instead of house slippers, I stuffed my feet into your heavy shoes (and they really were yours).

From the Archives on Valentine's Day

 

A collection of poems from the Review’s archives for Valentine’s Day.

Notes for My Funeral

Alex Dimitrov  

No one’s allowed to tell 
their sad story at my funeral.
No one’s allowed to tell
my sad story at my funeral.

For S., At The Boat Pond

Jean Valentine  

From The Yale Review, Spring 1967.

The Couples

Jean Valentine  

From The Yale Review, Spring 1967.

The Promise of Threat

Jonah Mixon-Webster  

I woke burying the memory of myself and myself
chewing glass to a silent end unswallowing and I
stood straight up pushing a finger behind the snag

The Horns of Moses

Nicholas Friedman  

Browsing a library copy of What to Expect,
I imagine St. Jerome, making by candlelight
the infamous error.

Tiny Asthmatic Ghost

Adam Scheffler  

               in death I want to be cremated
burn up with desire and whoosh
with the wind, backspraying
onto a friend’s face or coat,

Arendt: An Arguable Elegy

Richard Howard  

From the Review, June, 2008.

The Poetry of Louise Glück

Louise Glück  

We celebrate the 2020 winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature, with a look back at four decades of her work in the Review​.

Sunrise

Louise Glück  

From the Review, April, 2008.

Harvest

Louise Glück  

From the Review, April, 2008.

Burning Leaves

Louise Glück  

From the Review, April, 2008.

Walking at Night

Louise Glück  

From the Review, April, 2008.

Wasps

Louise Glück  

From the Review, October, 2011.

The Burning Heart

Louise Glück  

From the Review, January, 1999.

Mock Orange

Louise Glück  

From the Review, July, 1981.

Vespers

Louise Glück  

From the Review, January–April, 1992.

September Twilight

Louise Glück  

From the Review, January–April, 1992.

Lamium

Louise Glück  

From the Review, January–April, 1992.

Photograph

Armen Davoudian  

His face tanned almost to the faded tone
of the adobe alcove, father’s father
sits in his handsome sixties

Midges

Jake Crist  

Encounter plus a posture of consent: 
A messiah might hide in a second spent

Appetite

Alexandria Hall  

                                               I wish I cared more
about the birds, but I am interested in omens,

An Account

Tomas Unger  

Looking back, it seems
the mind knows as little as the body
what it acts out

Song

Hannah Hirsh  

I visited Rome once. I was fifteen, just a slip of a girl, or less than a slip,
               I was maybe a sip of a watered-down drink, in a tulip skirt and flip flops

The Twenty-First Century

Jacob Eigen  

We would sit at the counter saying I love so-and-so
but live with so-and-so-someone-else
,

Boethius' Body

Jacob Eigen  

“Take unity away from a thing
and existence too ceases,” that brain had once thought.

October

Jacob Eigen  

When he was a spider
exuding thread between rocks, 
he considered his earlier life as a man