Poetry

The Southern Hemisphere

Jacob Eigen  

Therefore they take this time
to whisper nothings to each other.
Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing,

Yesterday I Saw a Dog at the Tideline

Krystyna Dabrowska, translated by Mira Rosenthal  

Yesterday I saw a dog at the tideline,

a young, black dog, how he kept falling headlong into the water,

Rat Among the Pines

Roger Reeves  

With its hands in its pocket,
Moon hung calm above

Catastrophe, the police
Breaking the neck of a man

After Death

Roger Reeves  

Death now in a pocket of pines, in the thick
Hair of a boy who turns a skunk over
With a stick, watching the Christmas of its intestines

Celebration

Mark Bibbins  

How old are you, 
sweet knot of toads, how old.

Here & There

Will Frazier  

When I looked at him, a voice in my head said

This is your dad, he is speaking, you are on earth, this is your life

Mushmouf's Maybe-Crown

Phillip B. Williams  

Maybe madness make my mouth mine?

Elevator Closed, Elevator Open

Matthea Harvey  

Now, as we file in for our first journey
together, even this choice of fourteen floors

floors me.

Only Portions of the Map Still Legibly Survive

Carl Phillips  

Having had their moment or, if luckier, the better part
of a day in the sun as proverbed, it was time to move on.

As the Rain Comes Down Harder

Carl Phillips  

Or does fear, instructional
at last, clear a way
for vision?

If the Cure for AIDS,

Linda Gregerson  

                                                                    If half
the workers at Tyson Meats come down with the virus we still
have a plan for protecting the owners from lawsuits.

The Math Campers

Dan Chiasson  

A mayfly born at the break of dawn
Dies when the sun goes down.
A tortoise on an English lawn
Outlives his master’s son’s son’s son.

From “Travel & Leisure”

Stanley Plumly  

No one died, nor was ever going to die.

After Three Years

Jeffrey Gray  

The trail gone cold, your voice
asleep in your throat,

Last Air

Jeffrey Gray  

She had to have shopped for the hose,
measured it, fit it with duct tape to
the pipe and run it through the back

Looking Beneath the Sentence’s Wing; 1989

Wendy Xu  

  covetous old knots on a string
                                           still tied to my grandfather’s big toe in Shandong

From The Math Campers

Dan Chiasson  

It was getting late, and
          you could feel the strain 
of all the things that
          hadn’t happened yet not happening

Appointment

Dana Levin  

And then I see it: to be a hero is to be a child of a mother —

Trumpet

Emily Fragos  

I admit it, my life, I was totally taken with you.
I went along, laughing and smiling, or sometimes on the verge of tears

This Is What Survival Looks Like

Jane Wong  

                                                   mewing a downy
echo: every dead thing is in need of more
mourning
.

Blue Shift

Fady Joudah  

someone you know
is on the brink
of suicide, of murder,
is it also not
a national question?

Looking at Medieval Art

Richie Hofmann  

I lunch alone on chunks of venison. The Black Death
feels distant, like you.

Rilke Poem

Richie Hofmann  

I covered his eyes with my lips, but he pushed me away (“there’s
no returning from there”)

German Cities

Richie Hofmann  

He sings and speaks
with the voice of a priest, father, or devil. 

The Lord Rejoiced

Adriana Socoski  

I was up in God’s country, up on a mountain early
and, of course, I fell in love

At the Edge of Mind

Adriana Socoski  

Speech is the tree line of your easy chair—

The tipsy slurring of worlds
AWOL from fixed positions.

Closed For Good

Robert Frost  

From the Review in 1949.

A Woman Painted on a Leaf

Eavan Boland  

This is not death. It is the terrible

Suspension of life.

Native Tongue

Carlos Andrés Gómez  

Sometimes I search for the exact day
I stopped dreaming in the language
that sings my name.

No Exit

Jenny Xie

But slowly we disciplined the mouth
Tamed it into movement