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.
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).
David Wagoner
She’s like a singer straying slowly off key while trying too hard to remember the words to a song without words,
Erica McAlpine
Because I am the dog who thought her pain was a location,
Aaron Fagan
Say it’s a form of heat that doesn’t rise But passes from one body to the next.
Cecily Parks
I begin on an uncertainty of asphalt. I run with my mouth open. I open my mouth to breathe into yours.
W.H. Auden
From the Review, Autumn 1993.
A collection of poems from the Review’s archives for Valentine’s Day.
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.
Charles Wright
St. Valentine’s. Winter is in us. Hard to be faithful to summer’s bulge and buzz in such a medicine.
Jean Valentine
From The Yale Review, Spring 1967.
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
Nicholas Friedman
Browsing a library copy of What to Expect, I imagine St. Jerome, making by candlelight the infamous error.
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,
Richard Howard
From the Review, June, 2008.
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.
From the Review, April, 2008.
From the Review, October, 2011.
From the Review, January, 1999.
From the Review, July, 1981.
From the Review, January–April, 1992.
Armen Davoudian
His face tanned almost to the faded tone of the adobe alcove, father’s father sits in his handsome sixties
Jake Crist
Encounter plus a posture of consent: A messiah might hide in a second spent
Alexandria Hall
I wish I cared more about the birds, but I am interested in omens,