But I also don’t let such apprehensions stop me from writing as honestly and personably as I can.
Two Poems by Vivian Wagner
We’re begging the world/to remember our name,/but we barely remember it/ourselves.
“[My mother is suffering from uterine cancer and all I can think about are the 80s]” by Stephen Fellner
That’s the kind of man I am: I don’t believe in any lyric “I.” I don’t have time for any mind games. The “I” is either you or the poem’s a fraud.
Three poems by Julie Bloemeke
He set down my cup, showing me coffee trees,/ Corpus Christi costumes, the totora boats/ drying upward to the sky, the salt collectors/ in the Sacred Valley, sand.
Three Poems by Steven Cordova
“I’ll open a locker and there it’ll be—your head! ‘Thank God you found me!’ it’ll say. ‘I’ve been in here for days!’”
“Breaking the Fall” plus two poems by Taylor Mali
But all he wants to know, my gorgeous lover of words,/dirt, puddles, and the sky, is why I “broke” his fall at all
“At The Casino” by Olivia Dunn
Rogers had to sing that very song over and over and over again for the rest of his life at every casino across America. Doomed to experience his own success, forever.
“Lipstick for Your Vagina Is an Actual Thing Now” by Nicole Steinberg
The members of my online poetry workshop gear up to discuss sexual assaults of yore
“Dating and Biking in San Francisco” by Tomas Moniz
They both have bright red painted toenails. They wiggle their toes and swing their legs and laugh. I bike home feeling the world is a beautiful place.
“Everywhere” by Sarah Browning
This is where, in the poem,/I say that I am descended/from these motherfuckers
